


Twelve Days of Christmas

by Spockzilla



Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: A majority of this fic was written while I was wearing a Santa hat in November, Advent Calendar, And a Partridge in a Peartree, Art, BVC, Baz is Simon’s sugarplum, Baz is a thirsy boi, Choas, Christmas, Days in Fic Correspond to Day Posted, Did I mention chaos?, Domestic Fluff, Drinking, Eight Maids a Milking, Eleven Ladies Dancing, Elf on a Shelf, Eventual Smol Lite Smut, Family Fridge Full of Fucking Fruitcake, Find out if they are naughty or nice, Five Golden Rings, Four Colly Birds, Gremlins, Home Alone, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Kissing, Krampus - Freeform, Like a lot of choas, M/M, Makeovers, Mirth without Mischief, Mistletoe, NaNoWriMo 2019 attempt, New Chapter every Day, Nine Drummers Drumming, No Baz POV - Just Always Assume He’s in Gay Crisis, Nutcracker, Pining, Seven Swans a Swimming, Sexual tention, Simon POV, Simon Plays Skyrim, Simon is a Grinch, Six Geese a Laying, Slow Burn, Smol Horror, Smol gore, Sweaters, Ten Pipers Piping, Three French hens, Twelve Days Of Christmas, Twelve Lords a Leaping, Two Turtle doves, Violence, Waltz of the Snowflakes, Yoga, Yoga pants, frozen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-12
Updated: 2020-12-12
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:02:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 15
Words: 100,416
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21771901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spockzilla/pseuds/Spockzilla
Summary: Chapter a day advent calendar. (Plus one chapter because one became a two parter.)Baz finally gets to spend the holidays with the person he loves the most. That is, after Simon has no choice but to go spend Christmas with Baz at Pitch Manor.Baz is trying to get Simon into the holiday spirit while Simon is trying to get out of Baz’s house.Then a mysterious gift arrives.
Relationships: Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow
Comments: 191
Kudos: 327





	1. Prologue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to Harry for drawing the picture and helping at every step of the way.

**Thursday, December 12th**

“Haal. Mah tonn iah suh,” I say.

“Of course it is. Why would I lie to you?” Penny says. 

I thought this might be some sort of mage Christmas joke. But now my tongue is stuck to the frozen light pole.

“Haal,” I say again, asking for help. 

I hear snow crunch as someone walks up, then they say, “Crowley.”

It’s Baz. I try to growl in frustration but with my tongue stuck it sounds ridiculous.  
  
“Okay,” Baz says, and puts his hands on my shoulders. “I’m going to count to three then pull you off… One… Two.”

“Twoof! Twoof!” I say frantically, trying to say “truce.”

He lets go, snickers and walks off.

Penny points her ring at the pole and says, “ **_Some like it hot!_ **”

The pole heats up and releases my tongue. I’m grateful to have it in my mouth again.

“Next time I tell you not to do something, you probably shouldn’t do it,” Penny chides. 

“I’ll try,” I say.

“Si, are you sure you don’t want to come over for the holidays?” She asks.

“You said it yourself. You mum doesn’t want me there. Plus it’s too chaotic and I end up knocking stuff over. It’ll just be easier not to go,” I say.

“I can’t believe The Mage won’t make an exception for you to stay at Watford. You’re The Mage’s heir for snakes sake.”

“I’m sure he has his reasons,” I say. 

This does suck, but The Mage always has a reason for what he does. 

I don’t get why I can’t at least still go to Agatha’s house still. I know we broke up, but I’ve been going to her house since before we were together. And it’s not like I’d have to be in the same room as her. Her house is big enough that she wouldn’t even have to see me.

Penny gives me a hug and says, “If you change your mind at any time, you have my number. I have to go now. Mum is expecting me at the gates in an hour so I have to pack.”

“It’s okay. I’ll see you when we get back.”

When I let her go she walks off to the cloisters and I head back to my room. I flip up my coat collar to protect me against the icy wind.

When I get there, Baz is packing his bag. 

I grab mine, even though there’s not a lot to put in it.

“So, what are your plans for the holidays?” Baz asks.

My jaw tightens. “I’m going back to a care home.”

“A care home? _Back_ to a care home?” Baz asks confused.

“Yes. You can’t have forgotten I’m an orphan,” I say.

“But you’re also The Mage’s heir. Don’t you stay with him? Or even Wellbelove or Bunce?”

I shake my head.

“You should come to Hampshire.” 

I stop and look at him. “What? Why?” 

Baz clears his throat and folds his arms, lifting his chin to emphasize how much he looks down on me. 

“Because you’ve sworn to help me find my mother’s killer,” he says.

“I am helping you.”

“Well, you’ll be more help to me there than you are at a care home. The library at home is far too big for me to cover myself. And I have a car there—we could actually investigate. Will you even have internet where you’re going?” 

“You’re suggesting I go home with you.”

“Yes.” 

“For Christmas.”

“Yes.” 

“With your family.”

“My family won’t be there,” he tells me. “They’ve gone to spend Christmas with my stepmom's parents. They won’t be back until Boxing Day.”

“Why aren’t you going with them?” I ask.

“The logistics of me going with them didn’t work out. We all agreed it would be easier for me to stay in Hampshire.”

“This is mad,” I say.

“More mad than everything else going on?” he asks. 

I suppose it’s not. 

“Finish packing your bag. The cab gets here in thirty minutes,” he says.

This is going to be the worst Christmas of my life.

* * *

When the cab shows up, and the cabbie gets out to grab our bags, Baz says, “you’re late.”

“My apologies. This place is a little hard to find. Some of the road leading here is missing,” he says. 

He’s a portly man with a white beard wearing a Christmas sweater with cats batting at tinsel on it. I wonder if he’d make more money as a mall Santa than a cabbie. He seems very cheery, humming _Rudolph The Red Nosed Reindeer_ , as he puts our bags in the boot. 

I’m surprised Baz didn’t have some sort of private driver show up. 

When we get in, I check the mirror to make sure the cabbie isn’t a goblin. No green skin or red lips. Just rosy red cheeks. 

When he starts the car and begins to drive off, he turns on the music and _Jingle Bell Rock_ plays. I’m really not in the mood for this. I learn my forehead against the window and watch the snowy trees go by.

After an hour of listening to more Christmas songs than I even knew existed, the song _I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus_ plays. It makes me cringe. I’ve always hated this song most of all. It just reminds me that I never had a mom. Or a believable Santa for that matter. All the Santas at care were drunks with fake beards. 

I look over to Baz realizing this song might be a trigger for him too. He also looks unhappy. I see him covertly get his wand out and says, “ **_Bah, humbug!_ **” The music goes out.

The cabbie looks concerned and starts fiddling with the radio.  
  
“Sorry, fellas,” the Cabbie says. “There’s something wrong with the radio. I can sing if you like. I’m part of a choir in my free time.”

“That’s not necessary,” Baz says. 

“Suit yourselves,” the cabbie says. 

There’s silence for a few minutes, then the cabbie starts humming _Deck the Halls_. This is worse than the radio. This is worse than if we had just let him sing.

At least he’s not tone deaf. 

It’s like this the rest of the way there. 

When we get to a road at the end of a drive, the cab stops. 

“It’s just down that drive,” Baz says. 

“My apologies, but I was warned not to drive down that.”

“Why?” Baz asks, unamused. 

“Was told it’s haunted.” 

Baz rolls his eyes and says, “Just drive down.”

“No can do,” the cabbie says. 

“Fine,” Baz says, and hands him his fare.

The cabbie counts it and says, “No tip? It’s Christmas.”

“Happy Christmas,” Baz says sardonically, and gets out of the cab. 

We get out bags and start trudging through the snow to what looks like a small castle. 

“You couldn’t even tip him? You’re like Scrooge,” I tell Baz. 

“I’m literally taking in an orphan for Christmas. How much more charitable could I be?” He says.

“Oh, fuck off.”

When we get closer I see a big snowman in front. It has button eyes, a carrot nose and a blue scarf.

“Is that my fucking scarf?” Baz says, walking to it.

He takes it off the snowman and gets back on the path with me. 

“Who's snowman is that?” I ask him.

“My sister, Mordilia’s,” he says, and doesn’t elaborate anymore on it.

When we finally make it to the massive front door, we’re covered in snow and muck. 

Baz gets a key from his pocket and unlocks the door and lets me in. I’m a little hesitant. What if this is a trap?

“It’s freezing. Get in,” Baz says. 

I do. The room I step in is huge. Suits of armor line the wall to the left and busts of people I don’t know line the wall to my right. There’s also numerous oil paintings of what I assume are relatives or ancestors of the Pitch house. 

Baz comes in after me and sets his bag down. He points his wand at me, and I flinch, but then he just says, “ **_Clean as a whistle!_ **” All the mud on me swirls off and he sweeps it out the door. Then he does the same to himself. 

He takes off his boots and coat so I do the same, hanging my coat on the rack next to him. He does a double take of my socks. I hope there’s nothing wrong with them.

“So, where’s the library?” I asked.

Baz rolls his eyes and says, “you just got here. We have weeks. Let’s get settled first.”

I shift nervously from foot to foot. I feel like this place could be loaded with traps. He’s going to have me stand somewhere and pull a black tasseled chord and I’m going to drop into a dungeon. 

“Get your bag. I’ll show you where your room is,” he says. 

He leads me through the foyer, into a hall, which is literally decked with boughs of holly, and we take a right. We end up in a huge room with dual staircases. Under them is three doors. We go up the stairs to a hallway, and we pass a few doors before he opens a door to a room on our right. It’s kinda creepy, like everything else in the house. There’s a dragon painted on the archway around the door that makes me feel uneasy. I set my bag on the bed and Baz says, “I’ll show you where the bathroom and my room are.”

When we get to his room, which has a distinguishing tall arched door, it’s hard not to gawk. It looks like a cliché vampire’s bedroom. The walls have red fabric panels, and his bed is monstrous and decorated with gargoyles. (There are gargoyles. On his bed.)

The room is so big it literally has a couch in it. 

I don’t bring this up. Instead I say, “Do you have a phone I can text Penny with? I want to let her know where I am.” 

Baz walks over to a dresser and pulls out a new looking iPhone and tosses it to me.

I catch it then press the button. 

“It requires a passcode,” I tell him. 

He freezes for a moment then says, “7669.”

I unlock it and go to messages and enter Penny’s number. I type, “Hey, Pen. This is Simon. I just wanted to let you know I’m staying with Baz. So, if I go missing, you know why. Don’t reply though. This is Baz’s phone.”

I hit send, then hand it back to Baz. He puts it in his pocket.

“So, what now?” I ask.

“Are you hungry?” He asks. 

“Always.”

He leads me back through the hall, down the stairs, and down the hall downstairs, passing doors left and right, including the one to the foyer, then when we pass under the arch to the kitchen, he turns around and kisses me on the cheek, narrowly missing my mouth, and I kiss him back. 

I stand there stunned, and my face gets hot. 

Baz looks horrified, then he looks up and snarls, “Fucking hell!” 

I look up and see mistletoe. 

“It’s spelled,” Baz says. “But it’s only supposed to work on couples.”

Baz looks furious. 

This is so awkward. My skin feels too hot and has this prickly feeling.

I step back and he stomps into the kitchen, grabs a stool, brings it back and stands on it. He reaches to remove it then yells, “Fuck!” when he touches it. 

“It’s spelled and I can’t remove it,” Baz says angrily. 

“We’ll just have to be careful when we go into the kitchen, I guess,” I say. 

“You first,” Baz says sounding more furious than usual. 

I walk through and a moment later Baz follows. 

At least his breath was nice. I hope mine was too. 

He opens the massive fridge and says, “There’s about nine fruitcakes here, you’re welcome to.”

Gross. No thanks.

He opens the cupboards, showing me the lifetime supply of Christmas biscuits and various snack foods. Then he shows me the pantry, which is massive and looks like it was stocked to be able to survive the apocalypse. 

“This is just for your family? How many of you are there?” I ask. 

“My father, stepmother, and four siblings. But there’s also some people we employ that live here.” 

“Where are they?” I ask. 

“Since my family is gone for the holiday, they all left to spend the holidays with their own families too.”

“So your family was just going to have you stay in this big house all alone?” I ask, holding up a box of ginger biscuits, nonverbally asking if I can open them.

Baz nods at the biscuits, then says, “they offered to let me go with them. I just thought it would be better if I didn’t.”

I rip open the box and start eating them and ask, “Why?” with my mouth full.

“So we could go through the library, for one,” he says sounding perturbed. 

I nod, then ask, “is there milk?”

Baz gets out a glass, gets the milk out of the fridge and pours it for me himself. 

I thank him when he hands it to me and start drinking it. 

“So, where’s the library?” I ask. 

“Crowley, Snow. We’ve hardly been here for an hour. Don’t you want to watch some horrible Christmas movie or something?” 

Maybe I should have gone back to care. This is already shaping up to be the worst Christmas of my life. I’m alone with my enemy in a creepy mansion. The only reason I agreed to come was to help search the library. 

“I’m not really filled with Christmas spirit right now,” I say. 

“Alright. Let’s at least change into something more comfortable, watch one horrible movie then we can go through the library.”

“Fuck,” I groan.

“What?”

“I didn’t pack any pajamas.”

“You’re a disaster,” he tells me. “You own like four things. How did you manage to forget something?”

I glare at him, then he rolls his eyes and says, “I have some stuff you can wear.”

He takes my empty milk glass, rinses it out in the sink then leaves it there.

Then I follow him out of the kitchen and right as we’re about to leave he stops and puts a hand on my chest, stopping me too. He looks up and I look up too, remembering the mistletoe. 

“You first,” he says. 

I walk through, then he follows.

When we get back to his room he pulls a pile of clothes out of the bottom drawer of one of the dressers and puts it on his bed. 

“Pick some stuff out,” he says. 

There’s all kinds of Christmas pajamas, sweatpants and T-shirts that I can’t imagine Baz having ever worn. 

“Most of these are too small,” I say holding up a small red T-shirt with a picture of Father Christmas on it. This would be like a crop top on me.

“I’ll spell whatever you chose to fit you,” he says. 

“Do you have anything that isn’t Christmasy?” I ask.

“No.”

“Liar,” I mumble. 

I find this black shirt with a Christmas sweater design printed on it. It’s repeating stags, Harry Potter glasses, and deathly hollow symbols across it and in the middle it says, “Happy Christmas Ya Filthy Muggle” on it. It makes me laugh.

I look at Baz and I can’t tell if he’s stifling a sneer or a smile. 

I pick that and some red and black flannel joggers that have black cuffs on the ankle. 

Baz takes out his wand and says, “ **_One size fits all!_ **”

I take my new clothes into my room to change. When I close the door, I hear something slam behind me.

_What the fuck?_

I walk around the bed looking around, but I don’t see anything. 

It was probably nothing...

I take off my school blazer, unbutton my shirt and take it off and set it on the bed. I see something in the corner of my eye and jump, then there’s a creaking sound. I look around but don’t see anything. I hurriedly put on the T-shirt.

I shift my weight from foot to foot, and the creak happens again, and I realize it’s just the floorboards. I let out a long sigh. This house creeps me out.

I take off my trousers and put on the joggers. They really are comfy. The material is soft, and the waistband fits perfectly. 

As I leave, I swear I hear something slam again. I scan the room before I shut the door behind me. 

I walk up to Baz’s room and knock on the door. He opens it and he’s wearing silk burgundy pajamas with gold flocked damask and a burgundy V-neck. It really shows off his clavicle. I gulp. I really didn’t expect him to be so festive. 

Baz leads me back down the stairs and under the stairs on the right is a door to a room with a TV that takes up an entire wall like Agatha’s. This might even be bigger than Agatha’s. 

“What is that?” I ask pointing to a weird doll thing that has a plain red body with white gloves and a Santa hat, sitting on top of the telly. 

“It’s an Elf on a Shelf. It’s there to see if you are naughty or nice.”

That’s fucking weird. 

Baz sits on the couch and I sit on the far end and move an ottoman in front of me to put my feet up. If I have to do this, I might as well get comfortable. 

Baz gets out a remote for an Amazon Fire Stick. Agatha has one just like it. He does a search and types Christmas. The first movie that comes up is called Twelve Days of Christmas Eve. 

“Do you want to watch this?” Baz asks.

“Let’s read the description first.”

He clicks it and I read, then say, “This sounds like a Groundhog Day movie. I hate Groundhogs Day things. Being stuck in the same day sound awful. After Twelve days, I’d go mental.”

Baz thinks for a moment then says, “Have you seen Home Alone?”

I shake my head. 

Baz does a search for it. You have to pay to watch it, but he clicks the rent button anyways. It must be nice to afford to do stuff like that without a second thought. 

As the movie starts, I notice this wooden box thing next to me. It’s shaped like a house and has a bunch of little doors on it numbered one to twenty-five. One to twelve are already open, and I open thirteen and there’s a chocolate inside shaped like a Christmas tree. 

I eat it and it’s filled with some kind of vanilla creamy goodness. I open the next one and it’s another chocolate shaped like a bird and I eat that too. It has some sort of mint filling. 

I keep eating them as the movie goes on.

The blonde kid in the movie. Kevin. I feel for him: living in a house with too many other kids, not getting any attention, being bullied. It all sucks. But I would never wish not to have a family. This kid really needs to learn to appreciate what he has. 

We sit in silence for most of the movie, but when Kevin starts making traps I say, “This kid is really smart for someone his age.”

“Or the robbers are really stupid,” Baz says. 

“Yeah, that too.”

After another twenty minutes of Kevin successfully pulling off booby traps, I say, “How is he smart enough to do all this, but not smart enough to call the police or tell his neighbor?”

“He is smart enough,” Baz says. “He knows he could go to the police. He just chooses not to because he enjoys torturing these blokes. He’s doing this for sport.”

For a second I think Baz is just being a dick somehow. But the more I think about it the more I realize he’s right. 

“Is Kevin a psychopath?” I ask. 

“I personally think so,” Baz says. 

Knowing this makes the movie a lot funnier and I start laughing every time one of the robbers gets hurt. Baz chuckles a few times too. 

The paint cans were brilliant. It’s so simple yet so effective. Just tie paint cans to a rope, swing it down from the second floor and knock your enemy on their arse. 

When the movie’s over, I yawn and look at the clock. It’s pretty late. 

“How about we go through the library tomorrow?” I ask.

“I think that’d be best,” he says. 

Then he looks past me at the wooden box and says, “Did you eat all those chocolates?”

“Yes. Was I not supposed to?”

“No, dimwit. It’s an advent calendar.”

“What’s an advent calendar?” I ask.

“You’re supposed to open one a day until Christmas. Not all at once.”

“Sorry,” I say.

“It’s fine,” he says and motions for me to leave with him.

As we make our way back to our rooms he says, “You can go to the kitchen and take whatever you want whenever you feel like it, by the way.”

“Okay. Thanks,” I say, then go in my room. 

I take my bag off the bed and set it on the floor. 

This room is creepy and now that it’s darker, the dragon eyes glow and follow me around the room, but at least it’s clean. There’s no dust or cobwebs. 

I turn off the light and get under the heavy blanket on the bed. I roll on my side to get comfortable, then close my eyes. 

Just as I’m about to drift to sleep I hear whispers in my ear. I quickly open my eyes and sit up.

“Who’s there?” I ask.

The room is silent. 

“ _What the fuck,_ ” I whisper. 

I keep looking around me as my eyes adjust to the darkness. 

I don’t see anything. Maybe I fell asleep for just a second and I dreamed it. 

After a few minutes, I lay back down and close my eyes again and there’s a loud windy sound like a dementor from Harry Potter trying to suck my soul, and I sit up. The bed starts shaking like there’s an earthquake but nothing else in the room is moving.

As soon as the bed stops, I jump off and run out of the room. I run down the hallway and frantically knock on Baz’s door. 

After a moment, it opens, revealing a sleepy looking Baz. 

“There’s something in my room!” I tell him. 

“Like what?” Baz asks.

“I don’t know! Something evil!” I say trying not to be too loud. I don’t want it to hear me. 

“Oh,” Baz says. “It’s just the wraiths.”

“Wraiths?”

“Yeah. The house is haunted, but the wraiths are harmless,” he says. 

“That cabbie was right?” 

“It’s a really old estate. It’s normal to have wraiths,” he says.

“I don’t think I can sleep here,” I tell him.

“Come on, Snow, you can sleep on my couch. The wraiths don’t hang out in here.” 

“Why not?” 

“I creep them out.”

He holds the door to let me in and I go in. 

I stand there awkwardly while he goes in the closet. He comes back out with a blanket.  
  
“Thanks,” I mutter when he hands it to me as he walks back to his bed. 

Then he throws one of his pillows at my face. It smells like him. 

I take it and get on the couch as he gets back in bed. I get comfortable on it and I realize this isn’t so bad. I thought staying here would be like willingly walking into a vampire’s lair. Well. I think this is a vampire’s lair. But it’s not as bad as I thought. The sound of his breathing is familiar and the couch is fairly comfortable. 

I suppose it’s better than staying at a care home. 

With no creatures stirring, I’m finally able to fall asleep.


	2. The First Day of Christmas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On the first day of Christmas someone gave to me: a partridge in a peartree.

**Friday, December 13th**

I wake up before Baz as usual. 

My nose is stuffy and my throat is scratchy. I’m pretty sure I have a cold. 

I quietly tiptoe out of the room, go to the guest bathroom and brush my teeth, then make my way to the kitchen. All the paintings of old Pitches watch me as I go. I feel like they’re all wondering why I’m here. I’m still sort of wondering that myself. 

My nose keeps running so when I find a tissue box on a small table, I just carry it with me. I put the used tissues in my pockets as I go.

When I get to the kitchen, the fucking Elf on a Shelf is sitting on the counter, judging me.

I ignore it and I spend about a whole five minutes opening cupboards until I find one with bowls. They look too fancy to use, but they’re the only ones I can find. Then I go to the pantry and get a box of Corn flakes, get the milk out of the fridge and pour it into the bowl, and sit on a stool in the kitchen over a counter instead of going into the dining room. The dining room seems too fancy for cereal. 

Then I realize I still have to find a spoon. I get up and open drawer after drawer looking for one. How can there be so many drawers in one kitchen? There isn’t even a junk drawer. One just has sprinkles in it. That’s it. And they’re organized. Finally the thousandth drawer I open has a spoon, and by then the Corn flakes are soggy. But I eat them anyway.

I’m sure it’d make no difference to dump it out and pour a fresh bowl, but even if they have limitless food, I don’t want to waste it. 

It isn’t so bad though. I’ve had worse. 

When I’m almost done, Baz walks in and I’m stunned. I say, “Baz… You're—you’re wearing a Christmas sweater."

“And you sound diseased,” he says, referring to my nasally voice.

“I think I have a cold,” I tell him.

“Maybe you shouldn’t lick light poles,” he says.

He points his wand at me and I flinch again, but then he casts, “ **_Get well soon!_ **”

A warm feeling spreads over me but I don’t feel better. 

“I still feel sick,” I say.

“It’ll shorten your cold to about a day,” he tells me. Then adds, “The sweater was a gift from my stepmother.”

“I didn’t mean it was bad. I was just surprised,” I say. It really isn’t bad. It isn’t like the cabbie’s. It’s actually kinda stylish. It’s black and red striped with black deer on the red parts and white snowflakes on the black parts.

When he turns around to get something out of the cupboard I realize he’s also wearing jeans. _Jeans_. I’ve never seen him wear those before. They look expensive though. They’re dark and snug from his waist to his ankles without looking tight.

When he turns around, I quickly look away so he doesn’t catch me staring. I spill the bowl of milk. Milk is all over the counter and dripping on the floor.

Baz opens a drawer, takes out a kitchen towel and throws it at me. I mop up the mess while he fills a tea kettle with water. 

When I bend down to get the milk on the floor it makes my head hurt from all the sinus pressure and I groan. Baz takes the towel, mops up the floor and throws it down a laundry chute I didn’t even know was there. 

“Useless,” he says, then he gets out two tea cups and saucers with holly printed on it. Even the dishware is both fancy and Christmasy. He puts a tea bag in each. Then he gets out a sugar and creamer set then sits down next to me. 

He casts, “ **_Some like it hot!_ **” on the kettle, then pours some into my cup, then his. 

I look at the tag on the tea bag and frown. It’s Christmas tea. Why does everything have to be so festive here? I just wanted to look for Nicodemus and forget about the Christmas I’m not celebrating with my friends. 

“So… The library?” I ask.

Baz puts way too much sugar in his tea then says, “Yes. We’ll get started on that after we have tea.”

After a few minutes we take the bags out and start drinking. I drink mine black. Baz treats sugar how I treat butter though. Part of me wonders if he’d be eating the sugar by itself if I wasn’t here. Is sugar a vampire thing?

We drink in silence. 

I wonder what he talks to Dev and Neil about when they drink tea. They can’t be plotting my demise all the time. Could they? 

When we finish, Baz washes all the dishes by hand, including my bowl, dries them with a Christmas tea towel, and puts them all away. Doing dishes somehow seems beneath Baz. Or seems like he would think it’s beneath him. So I’m surprised he does it. 

Baz has been being alarmingly nice. Maybe it’s some rich people’s thing about having guests over. I know Agatha’s parents were like this. But I just thought they were genuinely nice.

As we exit the kitchen, he stops before the arch and waits for me the pass through before catching up with me.

I hope that near kiss yesterday didn’t get him sick too.

He leads me into the library and it is massive. There’s probably more books here than at Watford. And it’s beautiful. There’s a big wall of lead-paned windows that look out on a snowy garden. 

Baz stands at the entrance and says, “Alright. I guess we should start with this. **_Fine-tooth comb—Nicodemus Petty!_ **”

No books come flying off the shelf.

Suddenly there’s a bong sound. A grandfather clock went off. Then the song _Deck the Halls_ plays in bells. I look around trying to figure out where it’s coming from then Baz says, “Someone’s at the door.”

“Were you expecting anyone?” I ask as I follow him across the hall, to the foyer. 

He doesn’t answer and I struggle to keep up. He’s so bloody fast. 

When we get there, he opens the door and the outside air feels surprisingly hot considering it’s snowing still. 

But on the doorstep, there’s a four foot tree in a pot. The tree has pears growing on it. And there’s a bird in it.

“What is it?” I ask, confused. 

“A gift, obviously,” Baz says. 

He picks it up and brings it inside. I shut the door behind him.

He sets it in the middle of the foyer and starts inspecting it. 

“What are you looking for?” I ask. 

“I can’t find a card. I don’t know who this is to or from.”

I start looking too then the bird in it flies at my face. I start flailing my arms trying to keep it away. It bites my hand. I’m about to call for the Sword of Mages, when I hear Baz say, “ **_Dead in the air!_ **”

The bird drops dead. I look at my hand and it’s bleeding. 

“Was that bird supposed to be in the tree?” I ask. 

“ **_Get well soon!_ **” Baz says, pointing his wand at my hand, sending a pleasant warmth through it. It stops bleeding but there’s still blood running down my arm that’s starting to dry.

Baz sneers at me then says, “Go clean that off before you ruin the rug,”. 

Normally, I’d argue with him if he used that tone. But I don’t want to ruin the rug. Or anything else in this house. Everything looks expensive. 

I find a nearby bathroom and wash all the blood off in the sink. Then I look to make sure there’s no drops on the counter or anything. 

When I get back to the foyer, Baz is crouched down, inspecting the bird.

“I think the bird was part of the gift,” he tells me. “It’s a partridge.”

“Was it supposed to attack us?” I ask.

“Probably not,” he says as he gets his phone out.

“I’m going to text my stepmother to see if she was expecting something,” he says, then frowns at his phone.  
  
“What?”

“Cell service is down,” he says. 

The tree shivers.

“What the hell?” I say.

“What?” Baz asks. 

“The tree moved,” I say. 

He eyes the tree and it’s staying still so he goes back to looking at his phone. Then the tree slowly twists like it’s trying to get a look at me even though I don’t see any eyes. 

The trunk splits in two then Baz looks up. Baz and I, on opposite sides of it, move back a few paces, unsure what’s happening.

The tree uses it’s split parts like legs and steps out of the pot.

_What the hell is it?_

It starts running at me and I back up and call the Sword of Mages. I’m surprised the sword comes for me when my voice is like this, but it does. The tree swings a vine at me but I cut it off. It does it again, and I cut that one off too. I start hacking at the tree, but eventually it whips me across the face.

“Move, Snow,” Baz yells. He has a fire lit in his palm. 

I jump out of the way and Baz throws a fireball at it. It catches fire and starts running around in the foyer. It catches some drapes on fire and Baz says, “ **_Make a wish!_ **” and the drapes extinguish. 

The tree starts slowing down, then collapses in the middle of the room. Once it’s stopped moving and it’s just a flaming pile, Baz casts, “ **_Make a wish!_ **” again.

All that’s left is charred wood and smoking pears. 

“So much for not ruining the rug,” I say. It’s burnt to hell in a few spots, and the combined smell of that, and the burnt pears is unpleasant. 

Then Baz casts, “ **_Good as new!_ **” on the rug and it is good as new. I don’t get why he was making such a fuss about ruining the rug earlier. 

As Baz inspects the burnt tree, I ask, “Who would send you an attacking tree?” 

“Who do you think?”

“You can’t mean The Mage,” I say. 

“I absolutely do,” he says. 

I just shake my head. The Mage would never do that but there’s no point in arguing that. 

“Maybe it was just a prank,” I say instead. 

“You have a whip mark on your face, you bled and my house almost caught on fire. What kind of prank is that?”

I shrug. I honestly have no idea. I’ve never really understood pranks. They’re mean. 

He gets his phone back out then sighs. 

“Internet is down too,” he says.

“Maybe it’s just your mobile,” I say. 

He leaves and I follow. He goes up the stairs and into his room then picks his laptop up from the desk and sits on his bed with it. He enters the password then says, “No internet on this either… Stay here. I’ll check the modem.”

When he leaves I get the urge to look through his computer and drawers. But I immediately realize that’s probably wrong. Definitely wrong.

I sigh and sit on the bed. It’s extremely comfortable. 

I move the laptop over and lay down. They must have magicked it to feel like this. I’m not convinced a bed could be this comfortable without magic. 

I close my eyes and relax. 

The lash on my face still hurts. I would try to heal it myself, but I don’t really trust myself to cast spells on myself or others. 

A while later, Baz comes back with a bowl of walnuts and a nutcracker soldier. The kind that looks like a bloke in red with a hat and a mustache. 

I snap.

“Jesus Christ, Baz. Does everything you do have to be so Christmasy? Can’t we just do what we came here to do?”

“You’re welcome,” Baz says, looking more than frustrated, then says, “The internet isn’t working. I don’t think we can do what we came here to do. I didn’t really expect to find much in the library. I was mostly counting on the internet.”

“I’m going to leave then. I need to get out of here,” I say. And I mean it. All the Christmas stuff is over the top and driving me mental. 

I get up, go to the guest room and start packing my bag. As I’m putting my stuff away, that dementor sound happens again, and I look down, and from under the bed, a dark grey hand with black nails starts reaching toward my ankle. 

I stomp on it and it retreats back under the bed. 

When I leave the guest room, Baz follows me saying, “Just stay. Wherever you go, it can’t be much better than here.”

Nothing could be worse than here.

“Okay,” Baz says, as we reach the bottom of the stairs. “I’ll call you a cab on the landline.”

I follow him into the kitchen and he picks up the phone. He puts it to his ear and frowns. 

“The phone lines are down too,” he says. 

“I’ll walk.”

“Are you mad? The snow is halfway to your knees and it’s miles before you’ll get to anywhere that’ll have a phone,” he says. 

“I’ll be fine,” I say and make my way to the front door.

“You have a cold. You’re sick. You’re not dressed for a trek through snow. In fact, you’re still wearing _my_ clothes,” he says as we get to the door.

“Do you want your clothes back?” I ask.

“No.”

“I’ll give them back when we get back to Watford after the holidays,” I say and open the door. 

Baz points his wand at me and says, “ **_Baby, It’s Cold Outside!_ **” 

I slam the door.

“Are you fucking serious? That’s an illegal spell!” I yell. 

It’s an entrapment spell. You use it to keep people from leaving the house. It’s only legal to use on your children.

“If you die, which you will if you go out there sick, Bunce will have read that text you sent and blame me. This is self preservation. I could probably survive her, but I don’t want to take my chances. Plus, killing you is supposed to be my job and I’ll be damned if the common cold beats me to it.” 

I growl. He’s right. I hate everything about this. 

I drop my bag on the floor and turn around to lean against the door. 

Baz picks up the bag and says, “We can watch something on my laptop to pass the time.”

“No Christmas movies,” I say, as we walk back to Baz’s room.

“Why are you such a Grinch?” he asks me. 

“A Grinch? What are you? Cindy Loo-Who? Are you going to make my heart grow three sizes bigger?” I say annoyed. 

“I know a spell for that,” he says, like a threat. I think he means a spell that’ll literally make my heart grow and maybe explode. I don’t ask for elaboration because I don’t want to know. 

“The only DVD players we have are in my aunt and sister’s rooms, but we can watch something on my laptop,” he says as he brings my bag into his room.

“Get in bed and I’ll see what movies I can find,” he tells me, then disappears. 

I sit on the edge of his bed and put the duvet over me because I’m cold. 

When Baz comes back, he has two DVDs. He hands them to me. One is the kid’s movie Frozen. The other is an action movie called Die Hard. 

“Die Hard, definitely.” I say. 

He puts the DVD in his laptop, presses a few buttons and it starts to play. 

He walks over to the other side of the bed and sits there on top of the duvet, leaving as much space between us as possible. 

It starts out with Bruce Willis on an airplane, and when he’s getting off, the intercom says, “Merry Christmas.”

“Is this a Christmas movie?” I ask, getting paranoid.

“I have no idea.”

Then the movie cuts to an office Christmas party.

“You have got to be fucking kidding me,” I say. “Did you do this on purpose?”

“I’ve never seen this before. How was I supposed to know it was a Christmas movie?”

“Turn it off,” I say. 

He rolls his eyes, then puts Frozen in. 

“Are these seriously the only two DVDs in your whole house?” I ask. 

“With the Amazon Fire Stick we haven’t really needed DVDs. We got rid of most of them. But Fiona left Die Hard behind a long time ago and Mordelia didn’t want to give up her copy of Frozen. She has an obsession with it.”

It plays and I really don’t feel like watching a kid’s movie but this is probably better than dying outside or staring at a wall for the rest of the day.

As soon as I see this little girl with powers she can’t control and is afraid of hurting people, my heart breaks. Then the other little girl who’s kept in isolation. My heart breaks again. 

The feelings catch me off guard. 

But the singing is amazing. Those songs are so catchy. 

And I didn’t expect a kids movie to be so funny!

_“Winter’s a good time to stay in and cuddle_

_But put me in summer and I’ll be a —_

_Happy snowman!”_

Poor Olaf. I just love all the characters so much.

I’m just thoroughly entertained throughout the movie. 

When it ends, all I can say is, “That was brilliant.”

Baz cocks an eyebrow.

“I mean. For a kids movie. I just thought it was really good,” I say. 

“The music for it is good,” Baz admits. 

“Can we watch it again?” I ask. 

Baz looks like he’s holding back anger, but then says, “Sure,” and plays it again. 

As I watch I get a little sleepy and nod off.

When I wake up, the DVD is on the menu screen, it’s dark outside and Baz is gone.

How long was I asleep?

I look around the room and I don’t see a clock. I check the desk and nightstands for Baz’s mobile. He must have it with him.

Then I realize there’s a laptop in front of me. I exit the menu for the movie and in the corner it says 7pm so I’ve been asleep for a while.

I still feel sick but I do feel a little better. I think Baz’s spell is helping speed the recovery.

My stomach growls so I get out of bed and go downstairs to get something to eat. 

Right as I go through the archway to the kitchen, I almost run into Baz and he leaps back to avoid the mistletoe and he spills whatever he had all over himself. It’s steaming. 

Baz closes his eyes and takes long deep breaths.

“You alright?” I ask.

“I just spilled near boiling soup on myself. What do you think?”

“Sorry.” I mutter. 

He walks back into the kitchen, casts “ **_Clean as a whistle!_ ** ” on himself, sweeping the chunks into a rubbish bin, then casts, “ **_Get well soon!_ **” on himself. He’s still wet, and smells like chicken noodle soup though.

He starts getting ingredients out again, putting it in a pot. 

“Sorry I ruined your dinner,” I say.

“I made that for you, you nightmare.”

“Why are you being so nice to me?” I ask. 

“Because you’re a guest in my home,” he says. 

“That’s not necessary,” I tell him.

“I’m not going to act uncivilized just because you gave me permission to.”

I roll my eyes and sit at the stool I sat on this morning. 

“Go to the dining room. The chairs are more comfortable,” Baz says. 

I’m too tired to argue. I go. 

The table in the dining room is way too big. But the chairs are definitely more comfortable.

I put my arms on the table and rest my head until Baz comes in.

“No elbows on the table,” he says. 

I quickly remove my arms. 

“I’m just teasing, Snow. Your elbows are welcome on the table,” he says.  
  
I roll my eyes again and he puts soup in front of me and a cup of tea. 

He sits down around the corner next to me with just a cup of tea. No food...

“Why aren’t you eating? Did you poison this?” I ask.

“Yes. That was my master plan. Get you here, while your friends know where you are, so I could poison you before you can even help me find my mother’s killer.”

“Why aren’t you eating then? You didn’t eat breakfast either,” I say.

“I ate while I was making you soup the first time,” he says. 

I blow on a spoon full of soup before I put it in my mouth. It’s actually pretty good. I didn’t think Baz would know how to cook.

I take a sip of tea. It’s not Christmas tea and it feels really good against my scratchy throat. 

“What is this?” I ask. 

“It’s green tea with lemon, honey and licorice root.”

“Thanks,” I say. 

Having Baz cater to me like this is too fucking weird. I would try to leave again, but it’s too stupid and pointless. 

We both sit in awkward silence while I slurp my soup. I’m surprised he’s not telling me not to slurp. Penny would have by now.

“So, is there anything else to do around here without internet?” I ask. 

“I found a very old box of Scrabble,” he says. 

No, no, no, no. Not Scrabble. I’m so bad with words. I can’t use that as an excuse not to play though. He’ll just make fun of me. 

When I finish my soup, he takes my dishes, back to the kitchen and comes back with more tea then puts Scrabble on the table. 

He takes out the board and gives me my letters and gets out his. I have Y, A, M, T, A, E, E.

I groan because I always get letter’s that don’t make any words. All I have is “am.”

“Can we play with an extra letter?” I ask. 

Baz gives us each one extra letter, then he smiles more menacing than I’ve ever seen him smile before. All I got is an S.

He puts down the word “plethora” on the board. 

“Are you fucking serious? You already got a word that big? Is that even a real word? I don’t even know what it means. This isn’t fair. You’re better with words than I am.”

“Thank you,” he says. “That means a lot.”

He smiles like there’s a joke I’m not getting but I just glare while he gets out new pieces. 

I put down an M next to the A in “plethora,” to make “am.”

I take out a letter X. 

He puts down the word “love” using the O in “plethora.” 

I only see one word I can use, but I really don’t want to use it. 

I put down my S and X using the E in “plethora” to make “sex.” 

Baz raises an eyebrow and I say, “Shut up. It’s all I had.” 

I get out an O and a W.

Baz puts down a Y after “sex.” Fucking hell. I had a Y and I didn’t think of that. 

But oh! I got one! 

I put two Es under the Y in “sexy” then a T under the E in love, spelling “yeeet.”

“Snow…” Baz says.

“What?”

“'Yeet' isn’t a real word,” he tells me.

“Of course it is. I see it everywhere.”

“For one, it’s a meme. It’s made up. You can’t use it,” he says.

“All words are made up,” I huff. 

“Also ‘yeet’ is spelled with two Es, not three.”

“I see it spelled with more than two all the time!”

“Fine. You can use ‘yeeet.’” He says as he puts down “pleasure,” using the P in “plethora.”

“Are you fucking serious?” I yell. 

He picked this game on purpose. He picked this just to get under my skin. And I think he might even be cheating. Two eight letter words already? How likely is that? I’m not going to let him humiliate me anymore.

He looks smug, so I yell, “YEEET!” and throw the board across the room. The letters go flying in all directions.

Baz puts his face in his palm and says, “Snow, can you please refrain from throwing things in my home?” 

When he puts it that way I immediately feel bad and get up to pick up the pieces. 

“ **_A place for everything, and everything in its place!_ **” Baz says.

The pieces come flying back so I sit back down. 

He puts the pieces and board back in the box and says, “We should just go to sleep now. Maybe the internet will be back on tomorrow.”

“I just woke up,” I complain. 

“You’re sick. Sleep will make you feel better. I’ll get you a thermos for more tea.”

“Do you have orange juice? That’s what Penny gives me when I have a cold. It has vitamin C in it.” I say.

“It also has just as much sugar as a soda and sugar inhibits vitamin C.”

“Then why do people drink it when they’re sick?” I ask.

“Because they’re daft. If you want an orange, I’ll give you an orange, but I’m not going to load you up with sugar until you’re feeling better. I don’t want to hear your sniffling and nasally voice for longer than necessary. It makes you more irritating than usual.” 

“Fuck off,” I say and slowly walk back to the room. I’m too sick to go any faster.

When I get there, I start Frozen again because I have nothing else to do and the songs are catchy. 

I bring the laptop to the couch and lay down with it.

When Baz comes up, he sets down a thermos and an orange on the floor next to the couch, then throws earbuds at my face.

He doesn't have to tell me what the earbuds mean. He doesn’t want to listen to this anymore. 

I look over at him and he’s putting pieces of tissue in his nose. 

“You must have gotten me sick too. Now go to sleep or be quiet,” he says and turns out the lights. 

I skip to the part that was playing before I fell asleep and watch the rest of it while I sip on my tea. Then I put the laptop under the couch so I don’t accidentally step on it when I wake up.

I get as comfortable as I can on the couch, then go to sleep.


	3. The Second Day of Christmas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On the second day of Christmas someone gave to me: two turtle doves, and a partridge in a peartree.

**Saturday, December 14th**

I wake up before Baz again.

I feel much better. All better, in fact. 

I take out a change of clothes, which is a Watford uniform. That’s all I have. I take it and go to the guest bathroom to take a shower. 

The shower is in a clawfoot bathtub and it kind of feels like standing in a monster. But I’ve done stranger things, so it doesn’t bother me that much. 

What does bother me is the person sized shadow I keep seeing through the shower curtain. Every time I pull the curtain away, there’s nothing there and the shadow is gone. 

Baz could have warned me that the wraiths were voyeurs. 

I swear to Merlin, if it shakes this bathtub, and I slip, I’m going to go off on it and explode it into oblivion. 

I quickly finish washing up to avoid that situation, and brush my teeth and get dressed.

I take my uneaten orange and go back to the kitchen and get out the bowl, spoon, milk and cereal. I at least know where these things are now. 

I take it all to the dining room and start eating. 

When I start peeling my orange, I hear some light clinking coming from the kitchen. I guess Baz is awake. 

Eventually he enters the room, and again my mind blinks out and I say, “Baz… You're—you’re wearing yoga pants.”

They’re black and tight against his legs. Almost like a second skin. I can see the shape of every muscle in his legs.

“What is your fascination with my attire?” he asks as he sets down a tray with the tea cups with saucers, box of tea bags, and cream and sugar set on it. 

“I just didn’t think you’d own something like that,” I say as he sits down and fixes our cups of tea. 

“I can’t do yoga in jeans,” he says as he waits for his tea to steep. 

“You do yoga?” I ask.

“It helps with strength, flexibility and mind-body awareness. You should try it.”

“Uhh. Okay.”

“You’ll have to wear something else though,” he says, eyeing my uniform with mild annoyance. 

“This is all I have.”

“I’ll lend you something,” he says like it’s annoyingly obvious. 

Having your enemy lend you clothes is not something I’d consider obvious. 

We take our tea bags out and start drinking the horrendous Christmas tea. I miss Earl Grey. 

When we’re done, he goes to do the dishes and tells me to pick out something from his closet to wear. Something from the third drawer to the right, and the second drawer down. 

How many drawers could be in a closet? 

When I get there, it turns out to be a lot. The closet is massive. There’s even a bench in the middle. I feel like I’m in the TARDIS. It feels like this closet is bigger on the inside than the outside. It’s more like another room than a closet. 

I open the drawer he said to and sift through various workout clothes. I find some grey sweatpants that are cuffed a bit below the knee and a black tank top. 

I change into them and leave my uniform in a pile in the closet then head back downstairs. 

When I get there, Baz is holding two yoga mats and leads me into the library.

The library is two stories tall, but there’s no second floor. You have to use a ladder to get to the books up high.

Also there’s a massive Christmas tree in here. It’s decorated with red and gold ornaments and has a star on top.

Baz hands me my mat, and rolls out his on the floor. I do the same. 

Suddenly there’s a bong sound. The grandfather clock went off again. And again the song _Deck the Halls_ plays in bells.

We both look at each other, then get our wands out and head to the door. 

When we get there we both look at each other again, unsure if we should open it, considering yesterday. But Baz slowly opens it. 

As soon as it’s cracked open, I’m hit with a breeze that’s surprisingly warm and uncomfortably dry, then the partridge zooms in, aiming right at my face.

“ **_Dead in the air!_ **” He says.

The bird goes down and lands and the floor next to me. Baz sneers at it, then the tree, which is about a foot taller than the one from yesterday, shivers.

Baz throws a fireball at it, then casts, “ **_Sod off!_ **” to send it into the blizzard, which I didn’t realize until now is raging, and away from the house.

Once we’ve closed the door I ask Baz, “Who would keep sending things to attack you?”

“The real question is: how are they getting through the blizzard to deliver it?” he says.

I look out the window and the snow is definitely knee high now. Only the top half of Mordelia's snowman is visible.

I look back at Baz and he’s sneering at the dead bird. Does he hate birds?

“Can you _yeeet_ that out the door?” he asks. 

I pick it up, open the door and throw it as hard as I can.

Baz, with a very stoic face, takes a few deep breaths then says, “back to the library.”

I follow him back and he sits on his mat.

“Sit,” he tells me. 

“Shouldn’t we talk more about what just happened? That’s unusual, right?”

“After yoga. I need to clear my head.” 

I sigh and sit on my mat. 

“No, sit like me,” he says. 

“Oh, Turkish style?”

“In yoga it’s called Sukhasana, but yes.”

I rearrange my legs to match his the best I can.

“Okay. Now place your hands on your knees, breathing in and out through your nose, pull your heart forward, lift your chin up and take a big inhale.” 

I just watch him do it. His head is completely facing the ceiling, showing off his adams apple. 

“Exhale to round your spine, tuck your chin and cave your chest.”

He exhales as he bends forward.

“Are you going to do it or just watch, Snow?” he asks without looking at me. 

He repeats his instructions and I do it with him this time. We do this three times and it is pretty relaxing. 

“Alright. Now reach your hands out past your sides so your fingertips barely touch the ground.”

When I reach my hand out, it brushes against Baz’s and we both pull away. He scoots so he’s at an angle he can do this without our hands touching and we continue. 

He guides me through a series of stretches that all involve coordinated breathing. After about five minutes he says we’re going to do a position called downward facing dog.

He explains to me how to do it, but I just watch him. He has his feet and palms flat against the mat, with his arse in the air. His arms and legs are completely straight. 

It doesn’t look difficult, but at the same time his form just looks, for lack of a better word, exquisit. Jammy bastard makes even the dumbest looking things look like something that should be painted. 

After a moment I realize I can’t just sit here and stare, so I try it too. I have my hands and feet on the mat and I try to straighten out like Baz, but my knees won’t straighten out and I can’t get my heels to touch the floor. He made this look so easy. I’m wobbling.

Baz gets up and puts a hand on my hip to steady me, then one on my lower back and says, “Arch your back a little more… Put more weight into your arms and let your legs relax a little bit.” 

It’s hard to relax with Baz’s hands on me. His touch is good. It’s firm but not too hard. He’d make a good yoga instructor. It’s just difficult when your yoga instructor once pushed you down the stairs. And tried to feed you to a chimera. And has his infuriatingly perfectly muscular thigh next to your face. 

There’s a loud bang on the ceiling, and it surprises me, but when I try to stand up, I fall over onto Baz. We crash down together and whatever Baz has in his pocket is digging into my hip. 

I wait to see if the sound happens again. 

“Snow, unless you’re going to tell me what you want for Christmas, can you get the fuck off my lap?”

I get up and stare at the ceiling. 

“It was probably just a wraith,” Baz says. 

“They’ve done that before?” I ask.

“Not that specifically, but they love scaring guests. So. It was either a wraith or Father Christmas’s sleigh just landed on the roof. Whichever you think is more plausible. Feel free to use Occam's razor.” 

“None of this seems strange to you? The internet, the phones, the fucking trees? These are normal holiday festivities?” I ask.

“There’s a blizzard. It’s obviously responsible for the internet and phones,” he says. 

“And the trees?”

He sighs and says, “The only person I can think of that would want to cause problems for my family is The Mage. I know you don’t think so because he’s your Jedi master or whatever, but do you realize he’s raided my house twice this month?”

“No,” is all I can say. No it can’t be him. And no I didn’t realize that. 

“No,” I say again. “It has to be something else.” 

“It doesn’t matter. We’ll just light it on fire and send it away until whoever it is gives up,” Baz says. 

There’s a drawn out silence between us then he huffs and says, “I’m going to keep doing yoga. Join, watch or do whatever you want. But I’m done talking about this right now.” 

I walk over to a shelf, pick up a random book, and sit in the nearest chair. 

I look at the book and it’s called _Theory of the Rotation of Crops - With Information on Root Structure, Land and Pasturing_.

I sigh. I figured this library was going to be full of books on monsters and magic. 

I open it and flip to chapter one. I try to read, but I don’t know what half of these words mean. 

I glance up at Baz and he’s in this insane position. He’s holding his whole body off the floor with just the palms of his hands while one leg is over and the other is under his left shoulder with his ankles crossed.

“What’s that pose called?” I ask. 

“Astavakrasana. Now please be quiet,” he says, sounding like he’s trying really hard to be relaxed but struggling. 

I just sit and watch. It’s more entertaining than this book. Baz is doing things I didn’t know the human body could do in the most graceful way imaginable. 

If it wasn’t for the fact that one day one of us is going to have to kill the other, I’d say he should become a model. I don’t think those yoga pants would look this good on anyone else. 

Before I even realize it, forty minutes have gone by. I don’t know how he keeps it up so effortlessly. The small bit I did was a bit difficult. I’d be dying by now if I tried to keep up with him. 

It’s strangely hard to look away, but I get up and go to the kitchen. 

I open a cupboard and the Elf on the fucking Shelf is sitting there. 

Is Baz moving this thing or is it the wraiths?

I close it then open a few cupboards before I find a box of jammy dodgers. 

I sit on one of the stools in the kitchen and rip into the box and start eating. 

I have Frozen stuck in my head still. I start humming _Let it Go_ to myself. I would sing it. I don’t think Baz is in earshot. But I don’t remember the lyrics well enough. 

When the song is over I do whisper, “The cold never bothered me anyway,” to myself. 

I wish I could control my magic with love like Elsa. 

Not that I have much of that in my life. 

Then the song _Deck the Halls_ plays in bells.

I get up and jog to the foyer. Baz is already at the door by the time I get there, and when he opens it, these two turkey sized birds with reindeer antlers flutter in. There’s a pause while the birds and I stare at each other. Then they both start flying, hurtling toward me.

Baz takes out his wand and shouts, “ **_Dead in the air!_ **” 

They don’t stop.

I run into the library and slam the door shut. I hear Baz cast more spells and I think he got them, but then antlers burst through the door. 

“ **_Crash and burn!_ **” Baz yells.

The door catches fire and the birds use their antlers to rip the door to shreds. They don’t seem to be bothered by the fire. 

One sticks it’s head through the hole in the door and screeches at me. It has fangs inside it’s beak. _Fangs inside it’s beak._

The flame on the door is getting bigger. 

“Fuck! **_Make a wish! Make a wish!_ **” Baz shouts.

I call out the Sword of Mages and ready myself. 

When they burst through the door, they start flying in circles around me. I’m trying to keep my eyes on them, but I’m getting dizzy. 

Baz comes in with a longsword he got from one of the suits of armor in the foyer and he slashes one. It goes down, but there’s no blood and it immediately gets up and runs at me. As soon as it’s near me, I bring my sword down and decapitate it. 

The other one flies right over my head. I think it was about to grab my shoulders before I bend forward to take it’s buddy’s head off. 

As it flies around the library, I realize it has the shadow of a man. Are these people? Werebird vampire people?

When it dives at me again, I duck again and jab my sword up, eviscerating it. 

Entrails rain on me and the bird hits the floor with a thud. 

Baz is panting and staring at me wide eyed. 

I must look mad, covered in blood. 

“I don’t feel well,” he says, covering his mouth like he’s about to vomit. “Clean this up. I’m going to lay down.”

He just walks off, leaving me standing in a puddle of blood and guts. 

So we’re not going to talk about what just happened? 

How am I supposed to clean this? Fuck. He could have done this so easily.

I get my wand out and sigh. “ **_Out, out, damned spot!_ **”

Of course nothing happens. 

I try again. “ **_Out, out, damned spot!_ **”

And again. “ **_Out, out, damned spot!_ **”

Maybe I can clean this by hand. I step out of the puddle, then realize I’m leaving bloody footprints. 

The only way I can start to clean this is if I get myself cleaned first. And the only way to clean myself is to get to the shower. 

But I need to do that without leaving bloody footprints across the house.

I take five steps and get on the yoga mat. I get on my hands and knees and grip it. I use my knees to slide the mat forward, then when it’s scrunched up against my hands, I use my hands to push it forward, flattening out the mat. 

I continue this, slowly inching my way out of the room like a goddamn caterpillar. 

By the time I get to the staircase, I’m sweating. 

The caterpillar thing is extra difficult on the stairs. I have to lift myself up to slide to mat up a step, then sit on that step, then lift myself up to slide the mat onto the next step, then sit on that step.

By the time I make it to the top I have to lay down. I lay, panting, on the mat in the middle of the hall.

When I catch my breath I inch my way to the guest bathroom. When I’m in, I shut the door behind me, and turn on the shower to warm it up. Then I step in, fully clothed, and pick up the yoga mat to wash it off with me.

I take off Baz’s ruined clothes. I’m not sure if he’s going to be able to spell these clean. 

I spend an eternity scrubbing my head with a bar of soap before the water stops running pink. Getting blood out of your hair is always tricky business. Even after you’re sure you’ve got it all out, you find more. 

I scrub every inch of my body until the bar of soap has all dissolved. 

After about ten minutes of the water running clear, I step out and grab a towel. It’s white so after I dry myself I inspect it for red spots. Luckily there are none. 

Unfortunately, I don’t have any clean clothes here. So, I wrap the towel around my waist and go to Baz’s room.

When I open the door, Baz asks, “Is it all cleaned?” 

He looks angry. I guess he doesn’t take being sick very well. 

“Not yet.”

“How did you get clean?” he asks. 

“A long shower.”

“Please don’t tell me there’s a trail of viscera across my house,” Baz says, shutting his eyes bracing for the response. 

“There’s not,” I say.

He opens his eyes and raises an eyebrow then asks, “How did you manage that?” 

“You’re sick. Don’t worry about it,” I say. 

I turn to go in his closet where my clothes are and he says, “For Crowly’s sake, Snow. Please don’t wear your school uniform while we’re on holiday. You look ridiculous.”

“What do you want me to wear?”

He rolls his eyes and says, “I washed the clothes you were wearing yesterday. They’re on the bench in the closet.” 

I go in and shut the door behind me. The red and black flannel joggers, and black Harry Potter shirt are folded neatly under what are not my boxers. 

I unfold red cotton boxer briefs. 

It’s one thing to force me to dress festive. It’s another to take a man’s pants. This has to stop. 

But... They look comfortable. 

Ugh...

I try them on. 

Damn it to hell, they are comfortable. 

I finish getting dressed. I don’t care anymore. Baz can dress me like a doll all he wants. 

I leave the room and head back down to the library without saying anything. 

When I get there, I stare at the bodies and pile of guts for a moment. For several moments.

This is a nightmare. I have no idea how to clean a carpet.

I go in the kitchen and look under the sink for some sort of cleaner, but there’s nothing under there.

After some looking, I find a closet with cleaning supplies in it and gather what I need.

I take everything back to the library. I set the bucket of soapy water and scrub brush on the ground, then pick up the bodies and head and put them in the trash bag. 

Now my hands are bloody. I should have looked for gloves. 

I rinse my hands in the bucket, then dip the scrub brush in it. I start scrubbing the gore piles. Every now and again I dip the brush back in the bucket.

After about a half hour I decide to take a break. I get up and step back. 

Then I realize, all I have done is spread the blood further. Much further. 

Fuuuuuuck.

Alright. I’m just going to have to hope this works.

I take out my wand, take a deep breath and say, “ **_Into thin air!_ **”

The blood does vanish. 

But so does part of the carpet. There’s an asymmetrical hole in the carpet revealing the hardwood underneath. 

I rake my hands through my hair. 

How much does it cost to recarpet a room? I don’t have any money. How am I supposed to pay to have this fixed? 

I start pacing around in the library. My heart is racing. I feel hot. Way too hot. 

Oh fuck. My edges are blurring. I’m about to go off. 

No, no, no. Not here. 

I hold up my wand again.  
  
“ **_Keep it together! Suck it up! Steady on! Hold fast!_ **” 

Nothing’s working.

Baz runs in, looking gobsmacked. 

“Simon! What’s wrong?” He asks.

“I fucked up your house,” I say and put my hands on my knees, feeling dizzy.

I try to shake some of the magic off, and a few sparks catch on the carpet beneath me.

Baz stamps them out. 

Thank Merlin, he’s wearing socks.

“Baz, get out of here. You’re flammable,” I say. I would push him away but I’m afraid I’ll ignite him if I touch him. 

Baz puts his hands on my shoulders and says, “Deep breaths now, Simon. Let it go. Some of it. Before you start another fire. The house is fine, I assure you. We can fix this.”

My breathing begins to steady, and he says, “It’s okay, Simon.” 

“You sure?” I ask.

“Yes. That carpet was hideous.”

That brings a small laugh out of me, and I feel calmer.

“Won’t your family be upset that The Mage’s heir ruined their library though?” I ask. 

“The library isn’t ruined and I’ll tell them I did it.”

“But you didn’t. I did.”

“Snow, it doesn’t matter. It’s fine,” he says. 

“You called me Simon before.”

“No, I didn’t,” he says and takes his hands off my shoulders. 

“How did you know I was about to go off?” I ask. 

“I could smell the smoke from across the house. It’s not subtle.”

“Sorry,” I say.

“It’s fine. The smell is good.”

I tilt my head. 

He likes the smell of smoke? I guess it makes sense since he’s a pyro. 

“I just mean,” he says, “it’s preferable to the rot those peryton corpses would have brought.”

“Peryton?”

“Yeah. The antlers, the shadow, the fact a greatsword did nothing to it. They were Perytons,” he says. 

“What are they and why did they attack us?”

“I don’t know why they attacked us, or how they knew how to use a doorbell. But they’re a type of magical bird… **_Fine-tooth comb—Peryton!_ **”

A few books fly off the shelves and Baz catches them all. The one that lands on top of the stack opens to a certain page. Baz reads it out loud.

“A peryton is a magical bird indigenous to Norway. They are considered the apex predator in the region. Because they are immune to almost all magic they are nearly impossible to kill, even for mages. The only sure way to hurt one is with a magical weapon.

“Unlike other birds, they have antlers and fangs. They also have the shadow of whatever, or whoever they last ate.”

“So that peryton ate a man?” I ask.

“That or something human shaped.”

“Does the book say anything about how to get them to do your bidding?”

Baz flips through a few pages then shakes his head.

When I really look at him I realize he’s really pale and his eyes look tired.

“Do you need something to eat?” I ask. I haven’t seen him eat all day.

He sighs and shakes his head, then says, “I should lay back down. But follow me.”

He leads me back to the TV room and turns on an Xbox One, and hands me a controller. 

“Do you know how to use this?” he asks.

I shake my head. 

He explains all the buttons then asks me what kind of games I like.  
  
“I’ve never played a video game,” I tell him. 

He looks surprised, but takes the controller from me, goes through a bunch of confusing menus, then clicks something called Skyrim.

The screen goes dark and loud epic music starts playing then another menu comes up. Baz clicks new game, and hands me the controller.  
  
“It’ll explain it to you as you go. I’m going upstairs.”

I take the controller and sit down. 

It asks me to design a character. There’s so many options, I don’t even know where to begin.

There’s so many kinds of elves. And there’s no humans. There’s a few that look human, but they’re called Nords, Imperials and Redguards. 

And you can change every detail of their face. 

It takes me forever to get the hang of walking in the game. Luckily the attacking dragon is polite enough to wait for me to slowly get where I’m trying to go. 

After an hour or so I get the hang of the game and before I know it, hours have gone by. I don’t even realize it’s late until my stomach growls and I have a craving for salmon steaks and goat cheese even though I don’t like fish and never had goat cheese.

I go in the kitchen and look through the fridge. It’s all raw ingredients I don’t know how to turn into food.

I go through the cupboards and find some Walkers cheese and onion crisps. I sit on the stool and eat the bag and eat some of the jammy dodgers still on the counter. 

When I’m done, I look for that thermos and tea Baz brought me, but I can’t find it. I do find an orange so I take that with me. 

When I get to the stairs, I hear him playing his violin. He’s playing _I’ll Be Home For Christmas_. I don’t want to interrupt him, so I just sit on the top step and listen for a while. 

He’s so talented at everything he does.

I lean my head against the railing and close my eyes. 

When he finishes that song he plays _All I Want For Christmas is You_. At first it makes me smile. But then the way he plays it is slow and sad. I wonder who he’s thinking about. I wonder if he’s thinking about Agatha. 

When he finishes the song, I get up and go into the room.

“Shouldn’t you be resting?” I ask. 

“Probably,” he says and puts his violin away. 

I hand him the orange and I think maybe I see a flicker of a smile, but it’s hard to tell with his sad eyes. He sets it on his nightstand. 

“Is it bedtime already?” he asks.

“I was hoping I could watch Frozen one more time before we sleep.”

Baz rolls his eyes and says, “Sure. I’m going to turn off the lights and sleep. Use your earbuds.”

He puts tissue pieces in his nose again and turns out the lights.

I lie down on the couch and put the laptop on my chest. I play the movie and when I get to the song _Love is an Open Door_ , I get sleepy. I let the song finish, then pause it, close the laptop and slide it under the couch.

I try to get comfortable, then go to sleep, listening to Baz’s breathing.


	4. The Third Day of Christmas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On the third day of Christmas The Humdrum gave to me: three French hens, two turtle doves, and a partridge in a peartree.

**Sunday, December 15th**

When I wake up, Baz isn’t here. 

I get up and stretch and make my way to the dining room. 

When I get there, Baz is already there. He looks awful. Did I look that awful when I was sick? 

His skin is grey and his eyes are dark and his normal perfect posture has been replaced with a tired slump. 

“Are you okay?” I ask.

He sneers at me and pours himself a new cup of tea. He puts cream in it and then four spoonfuls of sugar. 

“I heard that sugar inhibits vitamin C,” I tell him. 

He glares daggers at me, as he sips his tea. 

“Maybe you should eat something,” I suggest.

He looks at me with complete contempt. I don’t know what I’m doing wrong but I feel like the only thing stopping him for eviscerating me is our truce.

“Sit down and eat your fucking pancakes,” he says. 

There’s pancakes!

I sit down and start covering them with butter and syrup. 

Baz points his want at them and says, “ **_Some like it hot!_ **”

“You don’t have to do all this while you’re sick,” I say. “I could have fixed us breakfast.”

“Like you know how.”

I start stuffing my mouth with pancakes. I think these are the best pancakes I’ve ever had.

I look at Baz and he’s giving me a disgusted look but I don’t even care. These are amazing. 

There’s a loud bang on the ceiling again. I drop my fork and Baz and I both look up.

“Wraith?” I ask. 

Outside the window, a bunch of snow falls all at once. Like a pile of snow just got knocked off the roof.

Baz looks puzzled and says, “The wraiths don’t go outside.”

“Does that mean it’s Father Christmas’s sleigh?” I ask sarcastically. 

There’s another thump from the ceiling but it sounds like it’s out in the hall. We both get up and go to it. 

Another bang comes from further down the hall. We follow the sounds into the foyer. 

Then through the window, I see something land on the ground. Something big. I would think it’s a bear but it’s too big… And I think it has horns.

I quickly put my boots on and run outside before Baz can spell me in again.

“Wait!” Baz yells. 

When I get outside, it’s freezing, but the air is hot and dry. There’s a horrible sandy sucking feeling I know too well. Like the life is being sucked right out of your skin.

Despite the heat, the blizzard rages. I can hardly see four feet in front of me. 

I call the Sword of Mages and trudge through the snow towards where I saw it.

But once I get to where I think it was, I look around and I can’t see anything. I can’t even see the house. All I can see is white. 

I try listening but I can’t hear anything over the sound of the wind. 

Then I hear snow crunch behind me and I turn and slash my sword.

Baz falls backwards, narrowly missing being hit.

I didn’t hit him but he doesn’t get up. 

“Baz!” I yell, put my sword away and help him up. 

“We need to get you back inside, Snow. You’ll freeze out here.” 

I feel hot. I touch his face and he feels like ice. He needs to get back inside.

“Which way is it?” I ask.

He pulls me in a direction, and I pull him the rest of the way until we reach the porch. 

He collapses in my arms and I pull him into the house. I close the door behind us and drag him across the foyer and into the library. 

I set him in front of the fireplace to get warm and dry our clothes.

“Can you light it?” I ask. 

He does, wordlessly. 

I touch his arms and they’re so cold. I wrap my arms around him. He can kill me for it later, but right now he needs to warm up. 

“Baz, I think you need a doctor,” I say. 

“Simon... “ he says. 

“What?”

“... I’m thirsty.”

I say, “I’ll get you water,” and start to get up.

He puts a cold hand on my arm and says, “No… _I’m thirsty._ ”

I look at him, trying to figure out what he means. 

Then everything snaps together. He’s finally admitting it. He’s admitting he’s a vampire!

“When’s the last time you fed?” I ask. 

“Wednesday night…”

“It's Sunday. That was like four days ago. How often do you need to do it?” I ask.

“Every night, to feel good. Every few nights, to stay sane.”

“Is four more than a few?” I ask. 

“Yes.”

“Why haven’t you been feeding?”

“The blizzard. No animals.”

“What about the perytons yesterday?” I ask.

“I couldn’t eat them in front of you!” He says. 

“Why? Because then I’d know you were a vampire? You know I know,” I say.

He huffs and shakes his head.

“Well, the tree and bird should be here soon. You can eat the bird, right?”

“It won’t be enough. And it’s an ent not a tree,” he says.

“Maybe the perytons will come back too.”

“I can’t help much against them. They’re resistant to almost everything except your sword… And if they make you bleed…” He trails off.

“They won’t,” I say. 

“They have talons, antlers, a beak and fangs. It’s a Christmas miracle you didn’t get cut yesterday.”

“This time I’ll be ready for them,” I say.

We both stare into the fire.

After a while I look at the clock and it’s five minutes until noon.

“Are you going to be able to kill the tree again?” I ask. 

He nods so I get up and help him up.

We walk to the foyer and he leans against the front door and we wait. 

Soon the grandfather clock goes off, then a moment later _Deck the Halls_ rings. 

We both ready our wands and Baz opens the door. The tree is like six feet tall now. 

Baz throws a fireball at it, and it throws a pear at him, hitting him in the face, knocking him back a bit. 

The bird flies at me and I shout, “ **_Dead in the air!_ **” and it falls into the room next to me.

The flaming tree steps out of the pot and starts running at us. 

“ **_Sod off!_ **” I yell.

Nothing happens. 

Then I panic and without thinking I yell, “ **_Fus ro dah!_ **” and it goes flying back, into the blizzard. 

When I shut the door, Baz is shaking, staring at the bird.

“Leave,” Baz commands.

I want to argue, but I think he really needs this, so I do. I go into the dining room to drink some cold tea and finish my pancakes.

After a moment, Baz comes in and slumps down in his chair. 

“Feeling better?”

“Negligibly.” 

“Hopefully the perytons show up in an hour.”

Baz nods. 

“So, does this mean you can see in the dark?” I ask. 

“Better than most.”

“Can you eat garlic?”

He sighs and says, “Yes.”

“Can you see yourself in the mirror?”

He sighs again. “Yes.” 

“What did that bird taste like?”

“Chicken.”

“Really?”

“No.” 

“Do you have super strength?” I ask. 

“Enough questions, Snow.” 

“Can I ask one more question?”

“That was a question,” he says. 

“That doesn’t count,” I argue. 

“Yes, it does.”

“Have you ever bitten a person?”

He looks into my eyes and says, “No.”

There’s a pause, then he asks, “Did you think I had?”

I have to think about it for a moment. I’ve known he was a vampire for a long time. But I never actually considered if he was a killer.

“No,” I say.

He nods. 

I continue eating my pancakes and he puts his arms on the table and buries his head in them. 

“Is there any way to make you feel better for now?” I ask, mouthful of pancake. 

“No,” he says without lifting his head. 

“Not even yoga?”

He doesn’t answer. 

“Not even Scrabble?” 

Still no answer. 

“Are you alive?”

“No.”

I roll my eyes. 

After I eat all my pancakes, I tell Baz I’m going to play more Skyrim. He gives no indication that he heard me, but I know he did. 

I go into the TV room and pick up the controller and sit down. I didn’t know how to turn the Xbox off last night so it’s still on.

I try to unpause the game but the controller doesn’t seem to be working. I spam all the buttons on it trying to get it to do anything.

I shake the controller and try again but it doesn't work.

Baz walks in and says, “Hold down the button with the Xbox symbol on it.” 

I do then it lights up and it works. I unpause the game and continue traveling up the snowy mountain to a place called High Hrothgar.

This white gorilla looking thing jumps out and starts running at me so I throw flames at it. The health bar says it’s a frost troll.

When it gets to me, it starts dealing a lot of damage and Baz says, “Go to the menu.”

I do, then he walks me through how to change the difficulty to easy.

“That would have been helpful to know yesterday,” I say.

I go back to the game and hit the troll with more flames and it finally dies.

“If you press the analog stick you can go into third person,” Baz says.

“What’s an analog stick? What’s third person?” I ask. 

“The joystick thing you use to look around. Press it like a button and you’ll be able to see your character,” he says.

It’s not until after I do it that I remember the way I made my character look: tall, pale skin, grey eyes, medium length black hair.

“Is that supposed to be me?” Baz asks. 

“Yeah… I couldn’t think of anything else,” I say. 

“But that’s a woman.”

“I thought it looked more like you that way,” I say.

The Nord men were too brutish looking. Baz doesn’t look like a woman, but he’s elegant looking and the women resembled him better.

I look at Baz expecting him to be angry, but he looks indifferent. 

I keep playing while Baz watches. I make it up the mountain and finish my quest. 

After that we decide we should ready ourselves for the perytons.

We go to the foyer and he leans against the door, readying to open it. I call the Sword of Mages and lean against the wall next to the door, ready to slash anything that comes in. 

We don’t know when exactly to expect them. Or if they’ll even show up again. Yesterday could have been a one time thing.

But we wait.

“Remember, whatever you do, make sure you don’t get cut,” Baz reminds me. 

I nod.

We wait for long enough that we both flinch when _Deck the Halls_ rings.

Baz looks at me and I ready my sword and nod. 

He opens the door and as a peryton flutters in I bring my sword down, cutting it in half, blood spilling everywhere.  
  
Baz falls to his knees, staring at the blood, then the second peryton flies in at him and he grabs it by the antlers before they hit him in the face. He goes flying back, not letting go, as the bird keeps flying. The bird pushes him around the room like he’s reverse water skiing or something. 

He gets knocked into two of the busts lining the walls, breaking them. 

I run towards them, trying to keep up, but even when I’m close enough, I don’t have a clear shot at killing the bird without hitting Baz. 

Baz is trying to dig his heels into the ground to make it stop but the peryton continues to push him.

It pushes him into the hallway and takes a right, slamming him into walls and knocking things over as it pushes him all the way to the stairs.

“Stand your ground!” Baz shouts as the bird pushes him into the door under the stairs, breaking it. 

“You don’t have your wand out!” I remind him. 

The room is filled with display cases, statues, and paintings. It’s like a museum. 

The peryton pushes Baz into a shelf filled with decorative vases with lids and they all crash onto the floor.

“Use _your_ wand!” Baz shouts. 

“Oh! Uhh!” I fumble to get out my wand as Baz crashes into a glass display case.

“ **_Stand your ground!_ **” I shout.

Baz’s feet sink into the ground and he’s holding back it’s snapping beak by the antlers.

I run up to it and pierce it with my sword and it goes limp. 

“Leave,” Baz says. 

I do. I walk out of the room and close the doors behind me. The latch is broken, but they stay shut.

I wait for him to be done. 

After a few minutes, the doors open and he looks surprised to see me there waiting. 

“Feeling better?” I ask. 

“Much,” he says. 

“How’d you get your feet free so fast?” I ask. 

“I’m not incompetent.” 

“What were in all those vases?”

“That was my family,” he says. 

“Huh?”

“Those weren’t vases. Those were urns.”

I feel my jaw drop, but otherwise freeze in horror. 

“Don’t worry. None of them broke. One was cracked, but that’s it. The urns are sturdy,” he assures me. 

After a moment I’m able to collect my thoughts again, and I say, “Now that that problem has been dealt with, we need to talk about what was out there.”

Baz nods and walks away. I follow him down the hall.

Then I notice something on the wall.

“Is that a shadow of a reindeer?” I ask Baz. 

He looks at it for a moment. He takes a couple steps left. The reindeer steps left. He takes a few steps right. The reindeer steps right. He turns his head. The reindeer turns it’s head. 

“Wicked,” I say.

“It must be an effect from the peryton blood,” he says as he waves an arm. The reindeer waves a hoof.

“I hope it’s temporary,” he says. “This would be hard to explain.”

“Do a flip!” I say.

“A flip?”

“Yeah!” 

“What makes you think I can do a flip?” he asks. 

“You can’t?” 

“I’ve never tried,” he says. 

“Why not?” I ask.

“Have you?” he asks. 

“Yeah.”

“And what happened?” he asks. 

“I broke my nose.”

“That’s why I haven’t tried,” he says. 

“Hmm. Ooo! Do that astaffcraison pose!” 

“It’s ‘astavakrasana,’ and no.”

“Why?”

He keeps walking, and the reindeer follows, then I follow. 

He goes into the library, sits in a chair and crosses his legs. 

For a moment I just stand there and stare at him, then I realize he probably expects me to sit in the chair facing his, so I do.

“So… That thing,” Baz says. “Was that The Humdrum?”

“That big thing?... No.”

Baz nods, then says, “But The Humdrum sent it?”

“I think so. I felt it when I was out there.”

“So did I,” he says. 

We both think on this for a moment.

“Why don’t we feel it when we’re in the house? Can you only feel The Humdrum when you’re outside?” he asks. 

“No. I’ve felt it indoors before. I don’t know why we don’t feel it in here,” I say.

“What do you and Bunce normally do when The Humdrum attacks?” he asks.

I shrug.

“That’s not an answer,” he says.

“I don’t know. We just survive.”

“How do we stop this?” he asks.

“I don’t know.”

“What _do_ you know?” he asks.

I shrug and he mutters, “Useless.” 

“It doesn’t relent until I go off or escape,” I say.

“Going off in my house is not an option,” he says. 

“I know, I know.”

I think I liked him more when he was dying of bloodlust. 

“That leaves escape...” he says. 

“You said it yourself though. We’re miles away from another phone and the snow is thigh high now.”

Baz picks up a landline phone from the table next to him, points his wand at it and says, “ **_Can you hear me now?_ **”

He shakes his head then tires, “ **_Your call is important to us!_ **”

He tries a few more before he sighs and gives up. 

I run my fingers through my hair and say, “This is all my fault.”

“Obviously.”

“I thought someone was sending stuff after you, but it was me the whole time. All this is because of me,” I say, gesturing to the hole in the carpet and the torn up, burnt door. 

Baz nods. 

“I’m just going to go outside and find whatever that thing was, and go off on it,” I say. 

“I know it’s difficult for you, but don’t be stupid,” he says. 

“It’s the only thing that’s going to stop this,” I say.

“If you go out there, you’re just going to get lost and freeze to death. Even if it is The Humdrum that does you in, it would be bad for appearances if it was on our property.”

“So, I’m supposed to just stay here and try to keep your house from getting destroyed until whatever that thing is gives up?”

“Yes.”

“That’s a terrible plan,” I say.

“Oh, I know.”

“I should have never come here.”

“Would you have preferred to make the other orphans endure this in a care home?” he asks. 

I don’t say anything. There’s no winning here.

“Go play Skyrim,” he says. “I’m going to clean up the peryton mess.”

I get up and go to the TV room. 

I turn on the controller and continue playing from where I left off. 

I wish I could have an Xbox at Watford. I guess I can get one next year when I’m done with school. If I make it that long. 

After I explore a dungeon, Baz comes in and says, “There’s a problem.”

“What now?” I ask, not looking away from the screen. 

“I fixed some of the damage to the house but I can’t spell the peryton blood away. I think even the blood is immune to spells.”

I shrug. There’s nothing I can do about that. 

Baz sighs then sits on the couch right next to me. Our arms are touching. 

It’s kinda weird. 

But it’s also kinda nice. 

I can’t explain why.

He just quietly watches me play. 

Until I kill a dragon, then he says, “Dragon killer.”

“I can’t not kill dragons in this game,” I complain. “At least, I don’t think I can.”

Then _Deck the Halls_ rings. 

We both freeze for a moment. I pause the game then we walk to the foyer. 

I call the Sword of Mages, but then I ask, “What if we just don’t open the door? Maybe they’ll just go away.”

“Has anything The Humdrum sent after you ever just went away?”

“No, but nothing The Humdrum sent after me used the doorbell either.”

There’s a bang on the ceiling that makes us both jump and the chandelier shake. 

“I think maybe we should open the door,” he says. 

“Okay. On the count of three. One… Two… Three!”

Baz opens the door and three lizards with wings and chicken heads zoom in.

I slash at one and miss and it breathes fire at me. I jump out of the way. 

They run around the room aimlessly breathing fire everywhere. 

One makes a terrifying guttural chicken sound that almost sounds like a pig squeal. “ _Brahaaaahk!_ ”

Then they all do it. “ _Brahaaaahk!_ ”

Baz is dodging them and I yell, “Baz get out of here!”

He ignores me and starts throwing curses at them.

We’re both running around the room, narrowly missing them.

Right before one breathes fire on Baz I shove him out of the way and get hit. My shirt and hair catch fire.

“ **_Make a wish!_ **” Baz shouts and the fire goes out.

I get out my wand, point it at him, and shout, “ **_Fus ro dah!_ **” throwing him into the coat closet.

Then I say, “ **_Stay put!_ **” and shut the door.

The lizard birds scatter, all running into the hall. 

I follow one into the library and it’s breathing fire onto all the books.

“ **_Make a wish!_ **”

I chase it and swing my sword at it and miss. These fucking things are fast. 

It breathes fire at me and I jump out of the way. Then it lights more books on fire.

“ **_Make a wish!_ **” 

Merlin, I hate dual wielding sword and wand.

I run at it again and it jumps up at me, fluttering its dragon wings, trying to claw me with it’s talons. I use the opportunity to slash it in half. 

As it lays on the ground dying it makes the most pathetic chicken sounds and I almost feel bad.

“Bok bok… bok…”

I smell smoke and I run back out to the hallway. I see smoke coming from the stairs so I run left and see the staircase on fire.

“ **_Make a wish!_ **”

The fire doesn’t go all the way out.

“ **_Make a wish!_ **” I shout again. 

Still not enough.

“ **_Cats and dogs!_ **” Baz shouts from behind me then glares at me.

It starts raining on the stairs, putting out the fire. 

“Baz, please just stay here,” I say. 

Baz gives me an annoyed look but doesn’t follow while I go upstairs. 

All the doors are closed, so I systematically open each one to check the room. 

Baz’s room is safe, the guest bathroom is safe. The guest room… The Elf on a Shelf is sitting on the fucking bed staring at me, but is otherwise safe. 

Then I open a door to a room that has posters of ’80s and ’90s rock stars wearing lots of black eyeliner. And somebody’s even written _Never Mind the Bollocks_ in yellow spray paint on one wall, ruining the antique black-and-white wallpaper.

And sure enough, the chicken lizard is just sitting in the middle of the bed staring at me. 

I move a little closer to it with my sword drawn. It does nothing. I move a little closer. 

When I’m almost within swinging reach, it spits out a fireball, lighting the bed on fire, ruffles it’s feathers and flutters off. It howls a sound that’s like a mix between a hellhound and a rooster. 

It lights the posters on fire and I yell, “ **_Cats and dogs!_ **” and it rains in the room, putting it all out.

I chase the thing around the room for a moment before I finally catch up to it and cut it’s head off. 

Panting, I leave the room, and realize it’s raining in the hallway too. I run to the stairs and it’s raining there too.

I jog down them and there’s a soaked Baz asking, “What the fuck did you do?”

“I just used the same spell you did,” I say. 

“I think the last one is in the kitchen,” he says. 

Before I can ask he says, “Yes, I’ll stay here,” annoyed. 

I jog to the kitchen, my footfalls making splashes in the puddles. 

When I get there, half of the cupboards are charred and I hear “ _Brahaaaahk!_ ” come from the other side of the island counter. 

I run around to the other side, but I hear it’s pitter-patter do the same. I switch directions and I hear it do the same, followed by another “ _Brahaaaahk!_ ”

I jump onto the counter, slide across it, and as I land on the other side, I bring my sword down, fatally cutting it. 

I put my sword away then jog back to Baz.

“Are they all dead?” he asks.

“Yeah.” 

“Why is it still raining?”

“I don’t know. How do we stop it?” I ask.

Baz gets his wand out and says, “ **_Rain, rain, go away!_ **”

When that doesn’t work, he continues with, “ **_Come again another day!_ **” 

Then he rolls his eyes and sighs. “ **_Daddy wants to play! Rain, rain go away!_ **”

It stops then, but everything is still soaked. He glares at me.

“I don’t know which is worse. You or the cockatrice,” Baz says. 

“Cockatrice?”

“Basically half chicken half dragon,” Baz explains.

“Do we have enough towels to clean this up?” I ask. 

Baz looks at me like I just slapped him. Which I kinda wanna do now that he’s looking at me like that. But I also kind wanna brush some of the wet hair in his face behind his ear. 

“ **_Bone dry!_ **” Baz says, and a five foot radius around us dries. 

He starts walking through the house saying “ **_bone dry!_ **” every few feet. I follow him, unsure of what else to do, as he goes up the stairs and makes his rounds through the bedrooms then back down to the library.

He dries the room but then water still drips down from the high up books. The bookshelves are like two stories tall. 

Baz looks for the ladder, then we realize it’s burnt into pieces on the floor.

At least it didn’t light the Christmas tree on fire.

Baz sighs and says, “I need to get on your shoulders to reach the rest of the books.”

“Uhh. Yeah. Okay.”

Baz walks over to a chair, points down and says, “kneel.”

I don’t want to obey when told to kneel. But I also want to help fix the library I’ve ruined. So I go to the chair and kneel.

Baz looks a little smug about it as he climbs onto the chair then steps onto my shoulders carefully. 

“Be still,” Baz commands, then says, “Slowly rise.” 

I get up as carefully as I can and I feel Baz wobble. I try to move to keep him steady. This just makes him wobble more. 

“Stay still,” he hisses. 

I try, but every time I feel him go off balance, I feel the need to correct it.

“Your job is to stay still. _My job is to balance,_ ” he complains.

I try really hard to stay still, but my instinct is to move every time I feel him move.

“This isn’t working,” Baz says and hops off me with more grace than a human has right to. 

“Kneel,” he says again.

I glare but I still do it. 

This time he climbs onto me and sits on my shoulders. I put my hands over his knees to hold him steady, then he says, “Rise,” and I do.

This is a lot more steady than what we were doing before. 

“Okay. Walk to the bookshelves,” he says, and I do. 

I look at the wall and our shadows look like a guy carrying a reindeer on his shoulders.

“ **_Bone dry!_ **” he says, then I step forward a few feet, and we repeat that process. 

I didn’t expect to spend this holiday with my head between Baz’s thighs. 

After a while my shoulder starts to hurt and I say, “Can we switch?”

“No. Who knows what would happen if I let you cast this.”

“Let me?” 

“Yes, let you. My house, my rules.”

I growl and jostle him a bit. 

He squeezes my head with his thighs. I don’t know if that’s in retaliation or if he’s trying to maintain balance. 

We keep going around the library doing this. I hate this library for being so big.

“My shoulder is really starting to hurt. Can we take a break?” I ask. 

“We’re almost done. I’ll fix your shoulder after,” he says. 

I sigh and we continue. By the time we’re done, my shoulder is dying. Baz is really heavy for someone so graceful. 

When he gets off me I start rubbing my shoulder, and he points his wand at it and says, “ **_Get well soon!_ **”

“Better?” he asks. 

“No, it still hurts,” I say. 

**Get well soon** isn’t a cure all. It usually fixes injuries but sometimes muscle irritations aren't affected by it.

“Okay. Stay here,” he says, and walks out the room.

I sit on the couch and wait. 

A few minutes later he comes back with a jar and sits next to me, facing me. 

“Turn,” he says. 

I turn away from him and I hear the lid come off, then I feel him pull up my shirt, then he rubs my shoulder with cold waxy stuff. 

It starts to heat up and feel smooth. 

“What is that?” I ask. 

“It’s Tiger Balm.”

“Is it magic?” I ask. 

“No. Normals have it too,” he says and takes his hand out of my shirt.

The warm feeling is nice, but my shoulder still hurts. 

Baz puts the jar on a table then goes out to the foyer. I follow and he keeps systematically drying everything. 

He casts, “ **_Bone dry!_ **” all over the room, then moves to the hallway, then to the dining room, then the kitchen. 

All the food in the cupboards is burnt and ruined. That mixed with the rain has created a bit of a soggy mess.

When he’s done with the kitchen he starts making tea. He doesn’t get me a cup. I don’t ask for one. 

After he pours his cup, I say, “You didn’t dry the TV room,” because I want to play Skyrim.

He looks at me with disdain, then sets down his teacup, goes to the TV room and dries it.

“Also,” I say, “I’m getting kinda hungry.”

Baz huffs and says, “Make yourself whatever you want. I’m going to have tea in my room. Don’t bother me unless it’s important,” and stalks off.

I turn on the controller to make sure it still works and try playing the game. Everything seems okay, so I head to the kitchen, passing Baz on his way to his room. 

When I get to the kitchen, the only thing unburnt is whatever is in the fridge. All that’s in there is raw vegetables and meats that I don’t know how to cook. 

I get out a plate, knife and fork, and bring it over to the fridge. I cut a thick block of butter and put it on my plate. Then I take a tomato. Then I peel some layers off a cabbage and get a pickle out of a jar. 

I close the fridge, and cut off a slice of my butter block and eat it.

Merlin, it’s better than the butter at Watford. 

I cut a few more slices and eat them, then I slice the rest and put them on the cabbage. It’ll be like a wrap, but instead of a tortilla it’s cabbage and instead ham it’s butter. 

I take the plate with me back to the TV room and start playing Skyrim again. 

I’m on my way to The College of Winterhold because I haven’t had my fill of magical education in real life. 

After I’ve eaten my pickle and half of everything else, and have had my first lesson at the mage college in Skyrim, Baz walks in.

“Well, I guess that’s better than eating butter by itself,” he says, looking at my plate. 

I don’t say anything. I just roll my shoulder because it still hurts. 

Baz sighs and walks off then comes back a moment later holding the Tiger Balm. 

“Take off your shirt,” he says. 

“What? Why?”

“Your shoulder still hurts. I said I’d fix it. I’ll fix it,” he says all matter-of-factly. 

“Uhh. Okay,” is all I can say to that. 

I pull the T-shirt over my head and set it on the couch next to me. Baz sits on the other side of me and I turn away from him. 

I’m waiting for him to touch me and he doesn’t. I’m tempted to look at him to see what he’s doing, but this is already awkward and I don’t want to make it worse, so I wait. 

Finally I hear the lid of the jar come off, and then I hear Baz rub his hands together. 

There’s another moment of silence and I’m just waiting for what comes next. 

I wait, and right when I think he’s changed his mind or something, he puts his warm hands on my shoulder, massaging the muscle, and it feels better than anything I’ve ever felt before and I accidentally moan. 

I freeze. I think Baz freezes too. I’ve never made that sound before. 

After a very long silence, Baz asks “Does it hurt?” 

“Yes,” I say immediately.

Then I say, “Well. No. Well, my shoulder hurts. But that didn’t hurt. That felt good.”

Then I feel stupid and shut up.

After a moment Baz puts his hands back on my shoulder and it feels so good. It takes considerable effort not to vocalize that fact. I’m just glad he can’t see my face right now.

I didn’t know it was possible for a person to make another person feel like this, and the fact that it’s Baz doing it is so disturbing. I mean. I don’t feel like it’s disturbing. But I feel like I should feel like it’s disturbing. 

This whole weekend has been weird. Weird besides the tree, two perytons, and three cockatrice. At this rate, there’s going to be that plus four of something tomorrow. 

“Wait,” I say.

Baz stops. 

“There was one tree, then two perytons, then three cockatrice. It goes up a number,” I say. 

“Coincidence,” Baz says. “Plus, on the first day it was a partridge and a…”

“What?”

“I’m an idiot,” he says. 

“What?” I ask again. 

He gets up and walks off and I follow as I put my shirt back on. He goes into the library then casts, “ **_Fine-tooth comb—Twelve Days of Christmas!_ **”

Several really old looking books fly off the shelf and into his hands. The one on top is called _Mirth without Mischief_. It opens to a page that says “The Twelve Days of Christmas. Sung at King Pepin’s Ball.” And there’s a drawing of a bird.

Baz flips through a couple pages and reads, “The third day of Christmas, my true love sent to me three French hens, two turtle doves, and a partridge in a pear-tree.”

“But you said it wasn’t a tree. It’s an ent.”

Baz says, “It _is_ an ent. An ent that grows pears and has a partridge in it. And the perytons are supposed to be the turtle doves and the cockatrice are supposed to be the French hens. Whoever or whatever is doing this is sending us a fucked up version of the Twelve Days of Christmas.”

“But why?” I ask. 

“To kill you? Why does The Humdrum send anything else after you?”

“Yeah, but The Humdrum has never gotten this creative before.”

“Hmm. There’s a few things that don’t add up, actually,” Baz says, taking the books to a table. 

He spreads them out and opens another, flipping through it.

Then he says, “The twelve days of Christmas is supposed to start on Christmas. Not twelve days before. Also the twelfth day won’t even be on Christmas. It’ll be on Christmas Eve.”

“Have you ever heard of something like this happening before?” I ask him. 

“No. Generally speaking, all Christmas mythology is exactly that. Mythology.”

“Generally? What about not generally?” I ask. 

“Small things sometimes have some merit. Gremlins were real, but they’ve been eradicated in the 80s. There has been no definitive evidence either way about the Icelandic Yule Lads. None of the main creatures are real though. There is no Father Christmas, no Krampus, no Père Fouettard, no Belsnickel, no flying reindeer, no elves.”

“Are you sure?” 

“Yes, Snow. That’s common knowledge.”

“I was raised with Normals. Sometimes it’s hard to sort out which myths are true and which ones are bollocks,” I complain. 

“Oh, fuck…” Baz says, looking worried. 

“What?”

“On the twelfth day, there’s going to be seventy-eight creatures attacking us…”

“Did you count the partridge and pear-tree separate?” I ask. 

“seventy-nine,” he corrects. 

“Well, now that we know it’s from the song, we’ll know what to expect. We can be ready for them,” I say. 

“Perytons _are not_ turtle doves,” he says.

“Yeah, but they’re birds. And the cockitrice were kinda like hens. What’s there supposed to be tomorrow?”

Baz looks at the book and says, “More birds. ‘Colly birds.’ But it could be any kind of bird.”

“If we can manage the other birds, I’m sure these will be fine.”

“We barely managed those. Half the house is burnt,” he says. 

“We can fix some of that. But it’s just birds. We’ll figure it out.”

“Any suggestions?”

“Umm. Lasso?” I suggest.

“A lasso? Your first idea to stop _a bird_ is _a lasso_?”

“It was just an idea. We could use pillows to stick it on the peryton’s antlers. Then it’d just be the beak we have to watch out for.” I say. 

“A beak, fangs and talons. Those talons could easily rip through flesh,” he says. 

“Yeah, but you’re not thirsty anymore, so getting cut isn’t a problem now.”

“Getting cut isn’t a problem anymore? Can you hear yourself?”

“Umm… We could lure them in the closet and lock the door.” 

“They can break through doors, imbecile,” Baz says. 

“Not if they have pillows stuck to their antlers.”

Baz sighs and says, “It’s late. I’m going to sleep. We’ll figure something out tomorrow.” 

“Can I take your laptop into the TV room?”

“Why?”

“So I can watch Frozen while I play Skyrim.”

Baz rolls his eyes and says, “Sure. Just don’t wake me up when you come in.”

Baz picks up all the books and takes them back to his room.

Luckily the laptop was under the couch when it rained, so it didn’t even get wet. 

I take it and say, “Goodnight,” to which Baz doesn’t respond, and I go back downstairs. 

When I get back down to the TV room, I set the laptop next to me, play it, and start playing Skyrim. I sing along to the movie while I quest.

By the time I get tired, I realize it’s really late and I don’t want to wake up Baz, so I just shut the laptop, and lay down on this couch. 

The wraiths haven’t seemed to have been bothering me today. Maybe they’ll leave me alone tonight. 

It’s a little weird going to sleep without listening to Baz, but I’m exhausted and fall asleep quickly.


	5. The Fourth Day of Christmas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On the fourth day of Christmas The Humdrum gave to me: four Colly birds, three French hens, two turtle doves, and a partridge in a peartree.

**Monday, December 16th**

I jerk awake to _Deck the Halls_. 

Oh fuck! I overslept! 

I run to the foyer just in time to see Baz throw the partridge out the door.

He looks at me totally calm, and I ask, “Was it bigger this time?”

“No but it was faster. Not faster than me though.”

“Did you get hit with a pear again?” I ask. 

He glares at me and says, “No. Now go eat your breakfast.”

“You made me breakfast again?” I ask.

“After what I saw you eating yesterday, I’m not going to let you into the kitchen ever again.”

As we walk into the dining room I say, “It wasn’t that bad.”

“Yes, it was,” he says. 

“I’ve had worse.” 

“What is worse than cabbage and butter? Wait. Don’t tell me. I don’t want to know.”

I sit down at the table there’s muffin shaped egg things. 

“What are these?” I ask. 

“Cheese and sausage breakfast muffins.”

I pick one out and take a bite and it’s fucking delicious. 

“How do you know how to cook?” I ask. 

“I can read a cookbook,” he states. 

“Don’t you need training and experience?” I ask. 

“You just need to know how to read, which I know isn’t your best skill,” he says. 

I would talk back, but these are too good. I eat three before I ask, “Why aren’t you eating any?”

“I had one while you were busy sleeping,” he says and takes a sip of tea. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you eat. Do you have an eating disorder or something?”

“No,” he says flatly. 

“Are you doing that thing people do where you slowly poison me over time?” I ask, getting a little worried. 

He’s been too nice since I got here. It’d explain a lot. 

Baz smiles evilly at me and takes another sip of his tea.

“Eat a muffin,” I demand. 

“No.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m not hungry,” he says.

“Just one bite.”

He shakes his head and says, “No.”

I put my muffin down, unsure if I should eat it now. 

“What did you do to them?”

“Nothing.” 

“Then eat one!” I say, raising my voice. 

Baz rolls his eyes and says, “I can’t.”

“Why?”

Baz closes his eyes like he’s wishing to be anywhere but here right now, then he quietly says, “When I eat my fangs pop.”

“So?”

“‘So?’ What do you mean, ‘so?’ I’m a monster.”

I shake my head and say, “I’ve killed monsters. You’re not a monster.”

“I’m dead. I have fangs. I drink blood. I’m a monster, Snow.”

“Dead things don’t grow. I’ve seen you grow over a foot taller since we met. And cats and snakes have fangs, and they’re not monsters. The blood thing is kinda weird but I’m eating pig flesh right now, so I’m not really one to judge.”

“I can’t believe you’re acting so casual about this,” Baz says. He doesn’t say it like he’s relieved and thankful. He says it more like I’m being an idiot.

“I really don’t mind.”

“You’ve been trying to prove I’m a monster for years,” he says. 

“Well, now I know you better and I know you’re not.”

“You finally get confirmation I’m a vampire and you’ve decided I’m not a monster?”

“Yes.”

“Unbelievable.” 

“Just face it, Baz. You’re not as scary as you think you are,” I say. 

He pops his fangs and lunges over the table at me, hissing. 

“Wicked,” I say, tilting my head and leaning forward to look at them closer.

He recoils and uses a hand to cover his mouth and says, “For fucks sake, Snow!” It sounds kinda like he’s wearing braces. 

It makes me giggle a little. 

Baz gets up and says, “Go fuck yourself,” and walks out of the room. 

“Wait! What are we going to do about the perytons?” I shout as he walks out.

He doesn’t respond so I eat another muffin. It doesn’t taste like poison. They taste good enough that they’re worth it even if they are poisoned. 

When I’m done I go to the fridge and take out some raw ham and put it on a plate. I take it to the foyer and set it in the middle. 

There has to be a way to kill it or trap it while it’s distracted by eating that. 

If only I had a box, stick and string. 

I start looking through the kitchen for something that could work. When I don’t find anything I go back to the foyer.

I know this ham could be useful. I just don’t know how. 

“What the hell is that?” Baz asks, walking in with some sheets. 

“Ham.”

“Why?”

“I was thinking we could trap the perytons,” I say.

“We’re not doing that. Are you familiar with matadors?” he asks. 

“Like bullfighters?”

“Yes,” Baz says, and lets the sheet unfold, holding it up with two arms. 

He wiggles the sheet in front of him then gracefully side steps, while keeping the sheet in place.

He does it again to prove the point. 

“But it’s not red,” I say.

“It doesn’t have to be red.”

“Are you sure?”

Baz frowns and says, “No. But do you have a better idea?”

I point at the ham, and he shakes his head.

“Do you know what time they’ll be here?” I ask him. 

“I think they show up every hour on the hour.”

“That’s convenient,” I say.

“Until the twelfth day when it’ll be twelve hours of fighting.” 

“How long do we have now?” I ask.

“About ten minutes,” he says, then starts going over the plan with me. 

Once I get it down, I stand against the wall with my sword ready like yesterday.

When Deck the Halls rings, we nod to each other, and he opens the door. I immediately bring my sword down, fatally wounding the first one.

The second one comes in and heads right at Baz holding out the sheet. The peryton flies right where he wants it to while he sidesteps it, narrowly getting missed by the antlers. 

It actually works!

I get behind a pillar just as we discussed, and he starts leading the bird my way.

Every time he sidesteps the peryton, my heart lurches. It looks like it’s going to get him and it’s hard to watch. But I do watch because my part is coming up. 

Baz gets next to the pillar I’m behind and wiggles the sheet. 

The peryton charges right into it as baz steps out of the way and lets it’s antlers get tangled in the fabric. I use my sword to pierce it, killing it. 

There’s a wheezing sound and I look over and realize the first one didn’t die yet. I quickly behead it. These things are evil but I don’t want them to suffer.

I turn around and Baz is watching me. 

“What?” I ask. 

“Leave. I need to feed.”

“Can I watch?”

“No.”

“Why?” I ask. 

“Because I said so.”

“That’s not a real reason,” I say. 

He crosses his arms and says, “Fine. Then I won’t eat.” 

I growl. 

He gives me a bored look.

“Fine. Enjoy,” I say, and go back to the TV room to play more Skyrim. 

But when I get there, I’m too annoyed to play. I just huff and sit on the couch. 

Why is he being such a dickhead about the vampire thing? I told him it doesn’t bother me anymore. Why does it bother him so much?

I know he’s not going to bite me. He’s proved that even starving he can control himself. The jammy bastard is so self controlled that he’s good at everything including being a vampire.

After a few minutes, Baz sticks his head in the room and says, “Snow, you should come look at this.”

I get up and go into the hall and he’s staring at his shadow. It’s the shadow of a peryton. 

“But perytons don’t have their own shadow. They have the shadow of what it last ate,” I say.

“I guess that’s what it ate last,” he says, sounding a little perplexed himself.

“But if you get the shadow of what they ate last when you eat them, then wouldn’t it get the shadow of what the peryton it ate ate?” I ask. 

“I’m surprised you were able to follow that line of reasoning long enough to ask that,” he says.

We stare at it for a moment and Baz lifts an arm up and down. He hops, which I’m surprised he did, but also glad because it looked cool.

“My theory,” Baz says, “is that it ate it’s young before the baby peryton ever ate something.”

“That’s awful,” I say. 

“Birds are horrible creatures. You know Harry Potter’s owl? Hedwig? Those Snowy Owls do that too.”

“Why do you know this?” I ask. 

“I saw a documentary on Netflix,” he says.

“About owls eating their babies?” 

“Well. I didn’t know that until after I watched it. It was a bit of a plot twist.”

I shake my head, trying to get that thought out, then say. “For the cockatrice, I was thinking we could get buckets of water and pour it on them.”

“Why would we do that?” 

“So they won’t be able to breathe fire.”

“They’ll be wet, but they can still breathe fire. Even if you had a way to pour it down their throats, I think they could still breathe fire,” Baz says. 

“Okay. Then. In Frozen, Elsa does that thing where she makes the ground ice. If we did that in the foyer, they’d be slipping and sliding like crazy.”

“Snow. For one, I’m not Elsa. I can’t turn the floor into ice. For two, we would also be slipping and sliding. I was thinking, to minimize fire damage, we should lock the door to the hall so they can’t scatter, and also we cover the room, walls and all, in water.”

“Okay, so, we lock them all in with me and I kill them all? Sounds easy enough,” I say.

“I’m going to be in there too.”

“No, you’ll get vaporized.”

“I’m not going to let you do this alone,” he says. 

“What if we cover you with something so you don’t catch fire? Is that possible?” 

“I guess if we both wore wet clothes we’d be less flammable,” he says. 

“What about your hands and face?” I ask.

“I have gloves and my father has a fencing mask I could use. Is that acceptable to you?”

“Since you’re using a wand and not a sword and don’t need mobility, I think you should have more layers,” I say. 

“Fine.”

“Let’s gather everything now,” I suggest. 

He nods and we both go to his room.

He gets me out a black jumper, some rain boots and some gloves.”

“I can’t wear the gloves,” I tell him. “When they’re wet, they’ll affect my grip on my sword.”

“Then your hands might get burnt.” 

“We can fix that if it happens. What are you going to wear?” I ask. 

“I’m going to wear these jeans with polyester leggings underneath, rain boots like yours, a long sleeve polyester shirt, gloves, and the fencing mask.”

“What about your neck?” I ask. 

“I’ll get a scarf. Oh, and wear this. I don’t want your hair on fire again,” he says handing me a Christmas themed trapper hat.

“If they breathe at your face, use your arms to protect it,” he says.

“I think you need more,” I tell him. 

“Like what?” he asks.

“Can you wrap a blanket around yourself, and over your head?”

Baz sighs and nods.

We bring everything we’re not already wearing downstairs then get to work on preparing the room. 

Looks like Baz already disposed of the peryton corpses somehow. 

We drag the unbroken busts into the coat closet and take some of the paintings on the walls and put them in there too. 

By the time we’re done, it’s almost time, so Baz gets the fencing mask and I put on the hat.

Baz looks weird and mysterious with no skin showing. Then he puts the blanket on and he looks like some sort of wizard. I mean, he is a mage. But he looks like some sort of Lord of the Rings or Dungeons and Dragons wizard.

He casts, “ **_Close the gates!_ **” on the foyer doors and gives the door to the hall a test jostle, and the doors don’t budge. 

Then he casts, “ **_Cats and dogs!_ **” and it starts raining for a few minutes. 

As long as we stay on the rug, we shouldn’t slip. 

It’s a few minutes until 2:00pm and the water is starting to get cold. Baz is shivering a bit. 

I hear a howl come from outside, and I look at Baz to see if he heard it too. I can’t see his face, but he shivers.

I call for my sword and we wait. I think the waiting might be the worst part now. An hour isn’t a lot of time to relax. It’s just constantly being on edge, waiting for what comes next.

There’s a thump on the roof that I don’t want to think about.

I try to make the moment a little lighter and say, “Hey, Baz. That blanket really suits you.”

“Is it because I’m a wet blanket?” he asks dryly. 

I give a small chuckle, but I’m breathing heavily already when _Deck the Halls_ plays. 

Baz is using one gloved hand to hold the blanket closed in front of him, and the other to hold his wand out, which is just poking out through the blanket. 

I open the door, and the cockatrice scurry in breathing fire. 

“ _Brahaaaahk!_ ”

With everything damp, nothing catches. 

I chase one around, swinging my sword, but it just serpentines away from me faster than a fish in water. 

Baz is throwing curses at them that don’t seem to work.

“ **_Burn out!_ **” he says, trying to make the fire stop.

The two I’m not chasing luckily aren’t bothering with baz. They‘re breathing fire on the door and trying to ram it when it doesn’t catch fire. 

The one I’m chasing steps off the rug and slides into a wall, and I quickly slide into it, pushing my sword into its body. 

One down, two to go. 

“ **_Sod off!_ **” Baz says, pushing them away from the door they’re still trying to get though.

They yell “ _Brahaaaahk!_ ” as they go flying away.

One slides right into me and I decapitate it.

The other turns and breathes fire right at me. I use my forearm to protect my face, narrowly missing my eyebrows getting singed off.

It scurries off to Baz and breathes fire, and before the flames hit him, he says, “ **_Right back atcha!_ **” and the flames go back into the cockatrice’s face and it catches fire.

It runs around the room aimlessly and I manage to run up to it and kill it, then Baz says, “ **_Make a wish!_ **” to put it out.

Baz drops the blanket and takes off the mask. He also peels off his jeans and the leggings under are like his yoga pants but the material is thinner and they cling to every inch of his legs. 

After that he systematically goes around the room, drying it, he throws the corpses out the front door, then casts, “ **_Open the gates!_ **” at the foyer doors.

He goes into the library, lights the fireplace, and sits in front of it. I’m not sure if he wants me to join or not, but I do. I sit next to him. The warmth is nice.

“The next wave of birds will be here in about half an hour,” he states. 

“Maybe you have some books on magical birds and we can figure out what they’ll be before they get here,” I suggest. 

“I looked while you were sleeping. There’s a lot of magical birds around the world. The perytons and cockatrice aren’t indiginous here, so it could be anything.”

“Should we keep the foyer locked again?” I ask. “If we don’t know what they are then we might need to escape.”

“We’ll lock it,” he says. “Whatever it is, we can handle it. Remember, we’re just trying not to completely burn the house down.”

I nod. It doesn’t seem smart, but him and I are pretty capable. It’s just birds, so it shouldn’t be so bad. 

I wonder if Baz is still cold. I want to touch him to check, but since he doesn’t look like he’s on the brink of death like last time, it might be weird. 

I take off my jumper and scoot closer to him, trying to make it seem like I’m just trying to get comfortable. 

My arm does touch his, but with his long sleeves it’s impossible to tell if he’s cold.

“Are you still cold?” I ask.

“A little. Why?”

“Put on the jumper,” I say, handing it to him.

He does. 

Why do I care so much if he’s cold? This holiday just won’t stop getting weirder. 

“I’m going back to the TV room. Let me know if you have any plans or something,” I tell him. 

I go into the TV room and just sit there for a few minutes. 

Are Baz and I friends now? Or is this just the truce? 

His whole family wants The Mage and I dead. But I don’t think I want them dead. Yeah, it was wrong to keep so many people out of Watford for rubbish reasons. I wouldn’t have even been allowed in if the Pitch’s still ran the school. But that’s not a reason to kill. 

If Baz was a monster going around killing people, that’d be a reason to kill. But he just eats small animals. It’s probably more moral to eat the rats he usually does than all the roast beef I do. 

Penny said factory farming is one of the biggest causes of pollution. I think Baz’s diet is more economical and environmentally friendly than mine.

If there ever comes a time where it’s either him or me and I have to kill him, I don’t think I will. I don’t think I could.

After letting that sink in, I turn on the controller and continue with my game.

I play for about fifteen minutes, then after escaping a trap in the ruins of Saarthal, I start smelling something really good. 

I get up and follow the smell. It smells like cinnamon and cardamom. It leads me into the kitchen where Baz is doing dishes.

“What is that?” I ask. 

“Cranberry Christmas scones,” he says and gestures to the oven. 

I look at them through the tiny oven window and they are mouth watering. 

“When will they be done?” I ask. 

“In five minutes. Then they need twenty to cool. They’ll be a victory snack for after we kill the four colly birds.”

“Will I get to see you eat one?” I ask.

“Why are you so interested in seeing me eat?”

“I don’t know. It's just is interesting,” I say. 

“Find another vampire to study,” he says. 

“I’m not trying to study you. And I don’t want another vampire.”

He puts the measuring spoons he was drying away, then turns around and looks at me. He looks like he has something to say but doesn’t know what it is. Or maybe he doesn’t know how to word it. Or maybe he doesn’t know if he should say it. But he definitely looks like he has something to say.

It’s not like him to be at a loss for words or bite his tongue so it’s a strange feeling of silence that stretches between us. 

Then the oven dings. 

Baz puts on red oven mitts with white snowflakes on them and walks over to the oven. I step back from it to give him room. 

He opens the door to see if they’re done. The smell wafts out, filling the room with amazingness. He turns off the oven and takes them out, then sets them on the counter. There’s eight scones on the pan.

He uses a spatula to move them from the pan to a cooling rack. 

Then he says, “Five minutes.”

For a split second, I think he means until we can eat them, but then I remember the colly birds. 

We both leave the kitchen, Baz stopping before the archway to let me go first because of the mistletoe. 

We go to the foyer and Baz casts, “ **_Close the gates!_ **” on the foyer doors again, locking us in the room.

I call my sword and we go to our usual spots. Baz leans against the door, ready to open it, and I lean against the wall ready to swing at whatever comes in.

We wait and then _Deck the Halls_ rings.

We take a deep breath then Baz opens the door. 

Immediately the door gets shoved open, knocking Baz over. I bring down my sword but it’s met with a shield as tall as I am. 

The shieldman pushed forward, backing me up from the door.

Behind the shieldman, three creatures with human faces and black wings rush in. Two with spears and one more with a shield just like the one being shoved in my face. All females, I think. 

The shieldman tries pushing me into the corner, and I see a spearman leap in the air, using her wings to hover over Baz, who’s still on the ground, and she thrusts her spear at him. But he rolls out of the way. Baz throws a fireball at the spearman, but the other shieldsman jumps up and blocks it with her shield. 

It’s three against one over there. I run over to Baz before this one can get me into a corner. 

When I come up behind the creatures, one screeches, “Pryjagon qogror!” and they back up and away from me. I try not to keep my back turned from them while I help Baz up.

Then they screech, “Nābēmagon!” and both shieldsmen push us back. I look for openings stab with my sword, but they’re working together too well and there’s nothing. 

If we weren’t stuck in this room, we’d have more places to go to try to get any kind of advantage at all. But in here, we’re just being corralled into a corner with nowhere else to go.

And that’s where we end up. A corner. 

The spearmen aren’t flying anymore. They’re just standing behind the shields. 

Then a few inches of space opens between the shields, and right as I’m about to try and pierce one with my sword, two spears come through diagonally. 

Baz grabs the one aimed at my head, stopping it from hitting me, and just holds it in place. 

I take the opportunity to bring my sword down on the shafts of the spears, cutting the bladed tips off. 

Baz and I must get the same idea at the same time because we both kick the shields in front of us. The shieldman in front of him goes flying back like it was hit by a train. The one in front of me just stumbles back a little.

The spearmen flap their wings and lift into the air. Baz throws fireballs at both of them and they shriek and drop back to the floor. 

I run over to them, decapitate one, and pierce the other in the chest before she could stop, drop and roll. 

I look back and Baz is just shooting a stream of fire at the shieldman closest to him. It can’t turn it’s back to him without catching fire, so I run up behind it and stab it in the back. 

When it falls to the floor, I see Baz fall to the floor in a small puddle of red. 

I’m about to go to him, when he says, “behind you!” 

I swivel so fast that I immediately run my sword through the last one that was running at me with a dagger.

With all of them dead, I look back at Baz and his face is contorted with agony as he tries to pull out the broken part of a spear in his shoulder. 

I run to him and fall on my knees, saying, “Baz! Stop! Stop! Let me look at it.”

He stops and I look at his back and it’s run all the way through. 

“Baz, it’s barbed. I’m going to try pulling it from this side.”

He nods.

I carefully but firmly try to pull it, and he yells in agony. I pull a little more put it’s not budging. 

I frantically look around and find the other spear head I severed. When I find it I see it has a barbed tip and flares out towards the base. So either way we pull that out of Baz’s shoulder, it’s going to hurt. The only way to really get it out is to cut off the barbed tip sticking out the back.

I point my wand at the doors and yell, “ **_Open the gates!_ **” then I help Baz up. 

“Does your bathroom have a shower?” I ask him as I half carry him up the stairs. 

He nods and I practically drag him through his room, then help him into the bathtub. I carefully make sure the spear isn’t bumping into anything, with his back facing me.

I call the Sword of Mages just to cut off his shirt so I can get a better look at what’s going on. This weapon looks far from sterile. 

“Do you have rubbing alcohol or something?” I ask. 

“In the kitchen, in the cupboard next to the fridge, there’s some scotch that should work.” 

I nod and run across the house, grab it and run back. I’m panting when I get back to him and I take off the lid.

Then he snatches it and starts drinking it.

“Baz!” 

“I’m a fucking vampire. I’m probably immune to infections.”

“Do you know that for sure?” I ask.

“There’s hydrogen peroxide under the sink. I just needed this first,” he says and keeps chugging it. 

I dig through stuff under the sink until I find it, then I open it and say, “This is going to hurt.”

Baz puts up one finger while he keeps drinking. 

Once he’s drank more than half the bottle he lowers the bottle and says, “Ready.”

I pour some all over the front part of the wound and his grip tightens on the bottle so hard it shatters. 

“FUCK!” he yells. 

“Do your yoga breathing things,” I tell him.

He breathes in slowly and deeply through the nose then exhales with his mouth. 

“Okay. I’m going to do your back now,” I tell him, and he nods. 

I pour some on his back and he hisses like he did at breakfast, but this sounds far more genuine. 

“So. I need to cut off the part sticking out, so we can pull it out, okay?”

“How the fuck are you going to do that?”

“With my sword.”

“No fucking way.”

“Our other options are to rip it out, which will hurt more, or leave it in which will hurt more.”

“You’re going to cut me,” he complains. 

“I’m good with a sword, and even if I did, you’re a vampire and will heal.”

He has no argument for that. 

“Sit on the edge of the tub so I don’t hit it,” I say and help him up.

“Do you need to bite something?” I ask.

“No, but I’d like to,” he says, narrowing his eyes at me. 

“Do you want me to find you a belt?” I ask.

“Just get it over with, Snow.” he says. 

“Okay,” I say, holding my sword up. “ I’m going to do it on the count of three. Okay? One… Two… Three!” 

I bring my sword down as hard as I can, and it cuts off the barbs perfectly. It didn’t even sound like it hurt him.

I pull on it from the front, then it pops out, followed by a small gush of blood. Baz lets out a small groan.

I lift Baz a little and set him back in the tub.

It sucks I can’t **get well soon** him. It’s too risky for me to cast spells on people.

I grip Baz’s hand and say, “Okay! You did it! That was the hard part.”

“I don’t need stitches, Snow. If that’s what you’re thinking. Just bandage me up, and I’ll be fine.”

He doesn’t let go of my hand. I don’t know if he’s drunk or delirious from blood loss. 

“I also found some epsom salt under the sink. I think we should fill the bath and pour some in and have you submerge it,” I tell him.  
  
“Alright,” he says.

“Do you uhh- need help undressing?” I ask. 

He shakes his head and says, “Just help me draw the bath and get me something from that drawer you looked through before, and I’ll do the rest.”

I turn on the faucet and wait for the water to get warm before I plug the bath. Then I pour in a bunch of the salt and swish it around in the water between his legs. Once it’s dissolved well enough, Baz closes the curtains and tells me to get his clothes. 

“Be careful of the broken glass,” I remind him.

I go to his closet and find a pair of black cotton joggers that look comfortable. 

But then I realize he needs pants too. I open drawer after drawer looking for some. The number of drawers in this house must be in the thousandths. One of them has the Elf on the fucking Shelf in it. 

I leave his closet and look in the drawers in the room and finally find some. I take out a pair of black boxer briefs to match the joggers.

I knock softly on the open bathroom door, then ask, “How’s it going?”

“It’s been thoroughly submerged and soaked. Leave me my clothes and I’ll be out in a moment.”

I set them on the counter then close the door and sit on the couch. After several minutes, a shirtless Baz emerges, holding a box of bandages.

For a moment, I’m too awestruck by how perfect his chest is to remember the hole in his shoulder. He looks like he was made from marble, but also like if I touched it, it would be soft beneath my fingertips. He’s not overly muscular. There’s just a hint of everything under flawless skin. 

“I’m going to need your help with this part,” He says, handing me bandages. 

He sits on the couch next to me, facing away from me, and I patch him up best I can, then he turns to face me, and I patch the side up best I can. 

Baz sits back on the couch, and winces a little. Then he smiles and says, “We forgot about victory scones.”

I chuckle, then ask “Are you hungry?”

“Yes,” he says, sounding kinda excited. 

I think he’s drunk.

“Come on, then,” I say and get up, and offer him a hand up.

He takes my hand, and I pull him up, and he doesn’t let go. 

I look at him and he doesn’t seem to notice, so I just go along with it. I guess I can help steady him if I need to if I have his hand. 

We walk downstairs, and across the house, almost remembering too late, I yell “Wait!” in front of the archway to the kitchen. 

Baz looks at the mistletoe then lets go of my hand and says, “I’m not contagious,” and walks into the kitchen. I’m not sure what that’s supposed to mean, but I follow. 

Baz opens the fridge and gets out a jar of jam.

“What kind is it?” I ask. I don’t see a label on it. 

“It’s homemade strawberry and cranberry,” he says, and opens it. He gets out a spoon, puts it in the jar, then holds the spoon in front of my face. 

Unsure of what else to do, I open my mouth, and he puts then spoon in. I close my lips around it, and he pulls the spoon out of my mouth. 

Because of how weird what just happened was, it takes a moment for it to register that that might be the best jam I’ve ever had.

Baz uses the same spoon to eat some of the jam. 

“Now,” Baz says, “we put the jam on the scones and it’ll be amazing.”

I’ve never heard Baz talk about food like this before. 

I’ve never heard Baz talk like this before. 

Baz uses the spoon to put jam on a scone and hands it to me. I’m about to eat it, when I notice he’s doing it again. He’s putting jam on another scone. 

He lifts that scone to his mouth and I see his fangs. Then he stops, noticing me, and gives me a shy but toothy grin.

He puts the spoon down and uses a hand to cover his mouth even though he’s smiling, and looks away.

“Why won’t you let me look at them?” I ask. 

“I’m a hideous monster,” he says, trying to sound serious. 

I can’t help but laugh at that. 

“You’re probably the most attractive bloke on the planet for one. And you’re a drunk vampire, not a monster.”

He takes his hand down and looks at me, still smiling. 

I know his fangs are supposed to be vicious and scary, but they’re cute on him. Baz is a cute vampire. My mind just kinda gets stuck on that, trying to process it. 

Then he giggles and says, “You owe me.”

“I just spent twenty minutes tending to your wounds. Why do I owe you?” 

“I grabbed that spear aimed at your face,” he says. 

“Yeah. You saved my life. Thank you. Is there any way I could repay the favor?”

I am humoring him, because he’s being drunk and silly and I can’t get enough of it, but I also mean it. 

Baz takes a bite of his scone, and I do the same. (My scone. Not his.)

After he chews and swallows he says, “I want you to do more yoga.”

“Alright. Tomorrow, we’ll do more yoga,” I say. 

“No. Now.”

“Now? Right now?” I ask.

“After victory scones.”

“But you’re drunk.”

“I don’t need to be sober to watch you do yoga.”

I feel my cheeks heat up.

“You’re just going to watch?” I ask. 

“I can’t do it with my shoulder like this,” he says.

“Oh, right. That makes sense… Well. I am more than happy to learn more from you, but I’ll need to learn from example, so this will have to wait for your shoulder to heal, okay?”

Baz frowns and takes another bite of his scone.

“How about,” I say, mouth full of scone, “we relax. We can play some Xbox or something, then when you’re feeling better we can work on the favor? Okay?”

Baz nods.

I don’t know if food makes him tired or if it’s just all the excitement from before has worn off, but after our third scone, he seems kinda sleepy. 

“Do you need more blood to heal?” I ask, feeling kind of worried. “Are those creatures in the foyer fresh enough still?”

Baz shakes his head and yawns. “They’re too human. I don’t want to drink them.”

“Alright. Do you want to play Xbox?”

“I’ll just watch you play more,” he says and starts eating the fourth scone.

I eat mine, and when we’re done we head to the TV room. He stops at the arch to let me through before following. 

When I get in, I grab the controller and sit on the couch. Baz sits right next to me. 

I start a quest to find books for an orc librarian at the mage college and Baz rests his head on my shoulder. 

My whole body tenses up but Baz doesn’t seem to notice. He is going to regret all of this tomorrow if he remembers.

I keep playing and eventually I realize Baz has fallen asleep.

I consider waking him and helping him to his bed. But, I think this is a situation where I should let a sleeping vampire lie. 

I keep playing and he stays asleep. Eventually when I get tired, I decide to just sleep where I’m sitting so I don’t wake him. 


	6. The Fifth Day of Christmas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On the fifth day of Christmas The Humdrum gave to me: five golden rings, four Colly birds, three French hens, two turtle doves, and a partridge in a peartree.

**Tuesday, December 17th**

  
When I wake up, I look down and see a mess of black hair on my lap. _Baz’s_ black hair. _On my lap._

Baz’s head is on my lap.

I can’t wake him. That’d be too awkward. Also, I don’t want to interrupt his sleep.

I don’t know what else to do so I just sit and wait. 

I wait for a long time. 

When he finally starts to stir, I realize it’ll be really weird if knows I’ve been awake with his head on my lap all this time so I pretend to be asleep.

He slightly nuzzles my lap, then his head jerks back and I feel him sit up really fast. 

I hear him whisper, “fuck,” then carefully get up and walk out of the room.

Was that a good “fuck” or a bad “fuck?”

Probably bad. 

I don’t think there are good fucks.

I stretch and roll my neck. 

I should go check on him and see how his shoulder is. 

I go to the kitchen and he’s not there, then the dining room, then the library, then I head up to his room. 

The door is closed. Should I leave? Should I knock?

I knock.

“Come in.”

I go in and don’t see him.

“In here,” he says from the bathroom.

I walk over and he’s peeling off his bandage. The wound has almost completely healed. 

“That healed really fast,” I say. Then ask, “Will it leave a scar?”

“I’m not sure. I’ve never been speared before… Can you get the bandage on my back?”

“Yeah, sure.” 

I walk over and he turns so I can take it off, then walks out while I’m peeling it, leaving me holding the bandage.

“You’re like Wolverine or something,” I say, looking at how well that healed.

He ignores me and goes through his wardrobe and takes out a black shirt and puts it on. It’s another V-neck exposing his perfect clavicle.

He sits on his bed, then picks up _Mirth without Mischief_ from his nightstand.

“So. Five golden rings,” he says. 

“Any idea what it’s going to be?” I ask. 

He shakes his head and gets up. He starts walking towards me and I freeze, but then he just walks past me, and out the door. I follow him.

He walks down the stairs and across the house to the kitchen, stopping at the archway. I stop with him and we just stand there for a moment before he says, “Go,” with an annoyed tone. 

I walk through then he does too.

He gets out the tray and starts putting all the stuff for tea on it. Once everything is ready he carries it into the library. 

I was hoping he was going to make breakfast again. 

He sets the tray on a table and fixes himself a cup and says, “ **_Fine-tooth comb—Golden rings!_ **”

A few books fly off the shelf to him, and when I try to see what they are, he says, “Stop hovering.”

I take a few steps back and he starts flipping through the books. 

“Is there any chance we can have breakfast?” I ask. We’re up early. There’s plenty of time before noon.

“Go eat one of the fruitcakes,” he says. 

I’d really rather not. “Is there anything else?”

“Do you know how to make anything else?”

“No.”

“Then, no,” he says. 

“Could you show me how to make those scones?” I ask. 

“What’s wrong with my stepmother’s fruitcakes?”

“Nothing… It’s just that they’re fruitcakes,” I say. 

“Yes? And?” he says, like he’s losing patience. 

I go back to the kitchen to get one of the fruitcakes out of the fridge.

The bloody Elf on a Shelf is sitting on top of them. 

I shove it in a drawer, then get out a fruitcake. 

I unwrap it, grab a fork, and take the whole thing with me back to the TV room. 

The laptop is still in there, so I play Frozen again while I eat. 

I don’t want to insult Baz’s mum’s baking, but it looks like baked vomit and tastes like it. There’s these Christmas coloured jellies on top that I had to spit out because it was like chewing a rubber. The inside is both mushy and crumbly. There’s something in it that crunches but doesn’t taste like nuts that I try not to think about while I eat.

Once I eat as much as I can will myself to, which is less than you’d think but more than you’d hope, I pause the movie and go check on Baz. 

He’s in the library, sitting in a chair, holding a book in one hand and a teacup in the other. 

“What did you find out about the golden rings?” I ask. 

“Not a damn thing. But I did figure out what those bird creatures were.”

“Were they harpies?” I ask. 

“No. Harpies have wings for arms. These had wings and arms. These were Strix,” he says. 

“What are Strix?” 

“They’re basically just that. Bird-people but not harpies. They come from Greece and their culture is very primitive. We don’t have a lot of information on them because they typically avoid mages. But as far as I can tell, there isn’t anything magical about them aside from having wings, and for all I know it could have a Darwinian origin instead of a magical one.”

I pour myself some gross Christmas tea, and sit down across from him. 

“Is your shoulder well enough to do that thing with the perytons again?” I ask. 

He rubs it and says, “It should be fine.”

I nod then there’s a bit of an awkward silence. Baz looks at his book and I realize I’m looking at Baz, so I look at my teacup.

I keep thinking about Baz last night, with that shy smile. I wish I could make him smile like that more often. 

I guess I didn’t make him smile like that in the first place though. All I did was watch him eat. It was just the alcohol and had nothing to do with me.

I can’t even tell if we’re friends now or just comrades against The Humdrum. Or still just enemies on truce. 

Maybe I should just ask.

“Baz?”

“Snow, we’re in the middle of a war with The Humdrum. I don’t have time to teach you how to make scones or spell your tea hot for you. Go play Skyrim, or watch that insufferable movie with the ice queen you fancy for the twelfth time.”

I think about telling him off because, for one, he does have time to do those things. It won’t be noon for another hour. And for two, I’ve been in the middle of a war with The Humdrum my whole life and I don’t act like a total git about it. And three, I don’t fancy Elsa. I mean, she’s lovely and anyone would be lucky to have her, but I like the movie because the story is good and fucking relatable and has the happy ending I know I’ll never fucking get. Plus it was more like five times, not twelve. 

But all those thoughts hit me at once, and I can’t turn it into a sentence fast enough so I just growl and walk off.

I don’t even realize I still have the teacup in my hand until I’m back in the TV room. 

I want to throw it at the wall, but I’m still trying to cause as little damage to this estate as possible.

Then I realize my magic is leaking everywhere. Baz is probably going to come running, thinking I’m going to start another fire if I don’t get this under control. 

I take out my wand and say “ **_Suck it up!_ **”

Surprisingly, that’s all it took. I feel calmer. I’m still angry at Baz. But calmer. I’m not going off anymore. 

I sit down, unpause Frozen, and start playing Skyrim again. 

I don’t even start doing a quest. I pick a direction and walk and kill everything I come across. 

I should have made an Elsa character instead of Baz. Then I wouldn’t have to think about him when he isn’t even in the room. 

I’m in the middle of trying and failing to climb a mountain when _Deck the Halls_ rings. 

I get up and head to the foyer at the same time as Baz.

As we approach the front door, he says, “I don’t need your help for this one.”

“What if it’s bigger?”

“It’ll still be flammable. On the count of three. One… Two… Three!”

As soon as he opens the door something zooms in, hitting me right in the left bollock.

I instantly fall over with my hands between my legs,

I think I hear Baz shout some things, then the door slam. It all happened really fast and it’s hard to think over the searing and pulsing pain of my testicle radiating up to my stomach. I feel like I might throw up. 

I might be crying right now. I don’t even know or care. All that I can comprehend right now is unadulterated pain.

“ **_Get well soon!_ ** ” Baz says, and a pleasant warmth spreads through my bollock that stops the pain but also feels uncomfortable because I’m hyper aware of the fact that _Baz’s magic flowing through my bollock._

“Crowley, that smells disgusting,” Baz says. 

Oh god. I smell it now. 

I look down and all over my hands and crotch is something brown.

“What is it?” I ask in horror. 

“Rotted pear.”

“Oh god, I need a shower,” I say. 

“Go take one, and I’ll leave you some clothes on the counter.”

I take a moment on the ground to let everything that just happened sink in before I get up and head upstairs. 

I go into the guest bathroom and close the door, without locking it, before stripping and getting in the shower.

All the soap is gone from the time I had to get all the peryton blood off me, and the yoga mat and clothes are still here. The clothes smell heavily of mildew. 

It’s too bad you can’t spell the peryton blood away. I kinda liked those clothes. 

There’s a knock and I yell, “Come in!” 

“There’s clothes on the counter,” Baz says, and shuts the door.

Once I’m as clean as I’m going to get without soap, I reach for a towel and dry off. 

I’m surprised the wraiths haven’t been bothering me anymore.

I pick up the first item of clothing on the counter… It’s boxer briefs with Christmas lights printed on them. 

Why?

Just why?

I put them on and the next on the stack is matching joggers…

Seriously. Why?

I put them on, and under them is no shirt. Just a fucking Chirstmas sweater. Well, not _just_ a fucking Chirstmas sweater. It’s a fucking Christmas sweater with Christmas lights that actually blink. 

I’m not putting this on. 

I leave the bathroom, clutching the sweater, and go look for Baz. 

I find him in the foyer sweeping something outside.

“What is that?” I ask.

“Strix ashes. Why are you topless?”

“Because all you left me is this fucking sweater. I thought we were done with the Christmas stuff now that we’re under attack.” 

“What’s wrong with the sweater?” 

“I don’t want to wear it,” I complain. 

“It’s just a sweater. Put it on.”

“No,” I say.

“You better not pout, Snow.”

“Oh, fuck off.”

“Stop wasting time. Put on the sweater. The perytons will be here soon.”

“ _I’m_ wasting time? Fine. Fine. I’ll put it on,” I say angrily as I put it on. “Are you happy now?”

“Full of joy and merriment,” he says flatly.

I wish our truce extended to seasonal warfare like this. 

I look down at the blinking lights on my chest and huff. I look like a fucking Christmas tree.

“Why do you even have clothes like this?” I ask. 

“Because I actually have a family.”

“Jesus Christ, Baz. Why do you always have to be like this?”

“I’m not being like anything. It’s just a fact.”

“I could just leave you to deal with the perytons alone,” I threaten. 

“I’m sure I could handle it,” Baz says confidently. 

“How? They’re immune to everything but my sword.”

“I could think of something.”

“Then do it,” I say, and stomp to the TV room. 

Once I’ve slammed the door behind me, I rub my eyes. 

Obviously I can’t let him get eaten by the perytons, but I don’t want to be around him until I have to be and there’s still another half hour. 

I lay on the couch, frustrated, and close my eyes. I could swear it was just for a second, but then _Deck the Halls_ rings. 

I check the laptop to see if it’s early, but no. It’s 1:00pm. I must have fallen asleep. 

I run to the foyer, and Baz says, “What happened to letting me handle this one?” 

“I’m not going to let a peryton kill you,” I tell him.

“Perytons can’t kill me,” he says. 

“Are vampires immune to being gored?” I ask. 

“Possibly,” he says. 

“I’m not going to let you get gored,” I say. 

“I wasn’t going to get gored,” he says, readying himself at the door. 

I lift my sword, and he counts to three. 

When he opens the door, I decapitate the first one that flies in. 

Baz holds out the bed sheet to lure the second one, but it ignores him, flying around him, and flies right at me. 

I jump and roll out of the way. 

I get back on my feet while the peryton is turning back toward me for another strike. 

Before I’m able to get back into a fighting stance, it soars at me. I use my blade to block it from me, but I wasn’t able to slice it. 

The flat side of my sword is the only thing separating it from biting my face off.

I try to push the peryton away with one hand on the hilt of the sword and my other palm pushing the flat part of the blade. The blade is cutting into my hand but it’s better than having my nose ripped off.

Suddenly it pushes against me extra hard, then falls over dead, revealing Baz standing behind it. 

“I told you I could kill it,” he says. 

I get up and look at it and see he had impaled the one trying to kill me with the antlers attached to the decapitated head of the one I killed. 

He looks at my palm, sneers, and casts, “ **_Get well soon!_ **” on it. 

“Well, I had to kill the first one for you for you to use it as a weapon,” I say.

“I would have found a way.”

“Whatever. Enjoy your brunch,” I say and go back to the TV room. 

I let myself drop onto the couch and sink into it.

Why did I ever think I could be friends with Baz? I’m pretty sure friends don’t treat each other like this. 

I don’t understand though. It wasn’t like this yesterday. Aside from Baz getting speared, everything went really well yesterday. Even before he was drunk. What did I do?

Fucking hell. This is probably a game to him. Make me think we’re friends just so I’ll let my guard down and so he can do something more vicious than usual. 

This holiday is cursed. 

I sigh and sink further down on the couch.

Then again, I guess making me wear a sweater isn’t as bad as pushing me down the stairs or feeding me to a chimera. 

Maybe he’s upset because I keep resisting the Christmas stuff. All he’s done since I got here is try to force me into festive activities. And he was at his happiest last night eating those Christmas scones.

That has to be it. 

I get up and walk straight back to the foyer.

As soon as I open the door, Baz jumps back, away from a peryton, covering his mouth, saying, “Jesus, Snow,” with a bit of a lisp from his fangs. 

“I was thinking we could make a gingerbread- whoa…”

I stare at the shadow behind him. It’s like a giant serpent body with a cat head and cat paws. 

Baz turns to look and he doesn’t say anything. He just moves left then right. The shadow slithers with him.

“Do you know what that is?” I ask. 

“It looks like a Tatzelwurm, but those aren’t real… At least they’re not supposed to be.”

“What is it?”

“It’s from Alpine folklore. It’s basically just a venomous serpent-cat thing. What it looks like.”

“Weird,” I say. 

“So, what was so important that you needed to barge in here to ask?” he asks, swiveling to look at me.

“Oh. Uhh. I was wondering if you wanted to make a gingerbread house or something.”

“There’s going to be cockatrice soon. Do you seriously think making biscuits is the best use of our time right now?”

“Well, no. But…” 

“Then why are you suggesting it?

“I don’t know. I just thought maybe you’d want to do something.” I say.

“If we survive the five golden rings, I’ll see what we can do.”

That sounds like a good answer. 

“Is there anything you need from me right now?” he asks.

“No.” 

“Let me get back to cleaning up the perytons, and I’ll come get you,” he says. 

I smile and go back to the TV room.

I go back to trying to climb the mountain. When I can’t jump up it, I try going to the right while jumping. Eventually I stumble on a path that takes me the rest of the way up here.

I end up in front of a Dwarven ruin called Raldbathar, fighting some thugs hanging around front. The Dwarven ruins always have stuff in them that kill me so I don’t go in. I just go farther north. 

I end up hitting a major city called Windhelm.

I’m in the middle of chatting with the townspeople when Baz walks in and says, “Time to get wet.”

I get up and head to the foyer, and he makes it rain. We make sure all the walls and clothes we’re wearing are wet. 

I make sure he has his gloves and mask on before wrapping the dripping blanket around him. I wish he’d let me do this part alone.

He stands there like an oversized Jawa while I wait at the door.

When Deck the Halls rings, I open the door and the cockatrice flood in. 

“ _Brahaaaahk!_ ”

One goes straight for Baz and he holds the blanket up to shield himself from the flame. Before he can get a spell off, he takes a step backwards and trips over the blanket. He looks like a moving lump on the floor while the cockatrice focuses fire on him. 

I run up to it, and run my sword through it.

“Alright?” I ask Baz.  
  
“Never better,” he says, trying to get up, while all tangled up. 

I run to the cockatrice trying to light the foyer door on fire, but when I step off the rug, I skid right into it, and the cockatrice and I burst through the door.

Shit! We forgot to lock the room down.

“ **_Make a wish!_ **” Baz says. 

I look behind me and the room is overly bright. One of the drapes on one of the windows is gone. It probably just went up in flames. They must not have gotten wet enough. 

I start heading towards it and Baz says, “No, get the other one. I can handle this one.”

I want to stay and kill it, but with the other on the loose, it could burn the whole house down if not dealt with fast enough, so I go after it. 

When I leave the foyer I see scorch marks on the walls leading to the stairs room. 

When I get there, I don’t see any new scorching on the stairs.

But the door to the TV room is wide open. 

As quietly as I can while dripping wet, I tiptoe to the room and stick my head in.

No, no, no… The cockatrice is staring at the TV. Merlin and Morgana, please let the TV be okay.

Facing the TV, I see it move it’s head back like it’s about to start spewing fire, so I grab the first thing in reach, which is my teacup off the table near the door, and throw it. It hits the cockatrice right in the head, then it looks at me. 

“ _Brahaaaahk!_ ”

It starts running at me and I run away. 

I run straight across the stair room, to the third room under the stairs that mirrors the TV room. I open the door and keep running.

I look back to see the cockatrice is gaining on me, then I crash onto a table and roll onto it. It’s felt. It’s a billiards table.

I jump off the table and I’m backed into a wall covered by a mirror. 

I turn around and the cockatrice is on the billiards table. It moves its head back, and right before it hits me with fire, I drop down, and slide under the table. 

I don’t hear anything. 

I’m not sure which way to go. 

Then I hear a lite _splat, splat, splat_ , and Baz appears in the doorframe, still wearing his blanket armor.

“Baz! Run!” I say from under the table. 

He lets his blanket drop then takes off his mask and says, “How did you do that?”

“Do what?” I ask, getting up from under the table. 

When I stand up, I see what he’s staring at. 

The cockatrice is standing on top of the billiards table, ready to breathe fire. But has turned to stone.

Baz takes a glove off and touches it.

“Still warm,” he says. 

“Is it permanent?” I ask.

“Depends. How did you do it?”

“I didn’t do anything. I just ran.”

“Did you duck in front of the mirror?” he asks. 

“Yeah.” 

“I’m not sure, but I think this might be one of those creatures that turn things to stone by looking at them,” he says.

“Then why haven’t we turned to stone?”

“Because we’re mages. Mages are resistant to things like that.”

“If we move it, will it stay stone?” I ask. 

“I’ll look it up after we clean up,” he says. 

Baz has me get a towel to wipe up all the water in the hall while he spells the foyer dry and disposes of the corpses. 

My clothes are still damp so I sit in front of the fireplace in the library, and Baz lights it for me. 

Baz then says,” **_Fine-tooth comb—Cockatrice!_ **” and a few books fly into his arms. 

“It was stupid of me not to do this earlier,” he says as he start flipping through the books. 

I start getting a little too warm in front of the fire, so I take off my blinking sweater. (I wish I had a shirt underneath this.) 

I hear a thump and look behind me and see Baz has dropped a book. He picks it up and glares at me as if I just called him a butterfingers or something. 

I turn back to the fire. Why does Baz like fire so much when he’s so flammable? 

“Yes, if a cockatrice sees it’s own reflection it will turn to stone and it is permanent,” Baz says. 

“If we make it out of this alive, it could make a great gift. Like as a lawn ornament.”

“Too bad my stepmother will be too horrified with the state of the house to appreciate it. And my aunt lives in an apartment, so it’ll do her no good.”

“Would you mind if I gave it to Agatha’s mum?” I ask. I think she’d really like it and I’m never able to give Agatha’s parents real gifts. 

“Oh. Are you and Agatha still…”

“No. But we’re still friends. I think…” 

There’s a long silence. 

I still don’t know if they intend to go out. If they do, I probably just put him in a really awkward spot by asking that. 

“Yes,” Baz finally says. “You may have the cockatrice if we survive Christmas.”

“Thanks. So, have you come up with a plan to defeat the Strix?”

“Nope.”

“It’s too bad they come so early. If it were after sunset, you could just turn off the lights and use your vampire vision and kill them all,” I say. 

There’s another thump and I look over and Baz has dropped the book again.

“We can cover the windows, you fucking numpty,” he says. 

“So you like my idea?”

“Shut up and get more sheets from the linen closet upstairs.” 

Without another word I put my sweater back on and go.

It takes me a few tries to find the closet because there’s a thousand doors in this house, but I do find it. I pick up a stack of sheets and bring them back down. 

When I get to the foyer Baz has a chair and a nailgun. 

“I need to get on your shoulders again,” he tells me. 

I know this is really stupid, even for me, but there’s a part of me that hopes I hurt my shoulder again. 

I get down on a knee and Baz climbs on top of me. I put my hands on his thighs to steady him on me as I rise. 

“Okay. To reach the wall over the window, you’re going to have to get on the chair,” he tells me. 

“This doesn’t sound safe.”

“It’s safer than fighting strix and cockatrice. We’ll be fine.”

I carefully step onto the chair using one hand to hold onto the back of it and one to hold onto Baz’s leg.

When I stand up straight, I ask, “Can you reach?”

“Barely,” he says, right before he puts in the first nail.

The sound startles me and I almost lose balance, and Baz’s thighs tighten around my head. 

I’ve always known Baz might kill me one day, but I never imagined it’d be from crushing my head with his thighs. 

I tap his leg and say, “I know I have a thick skull, but it’s no match for your vampire strength.” 

“Then stay still,” he says and continues with the nailgun. 

After he finishes affixing the sheets above the window, he gets off me, and nails the sheets along the sides so light can’t spill in from there. 

The second window still has intact drapes, so we take them down and put them in the coat closet before repeating the process with that window. 

When we’re done, Baz turns off the lights.

The whole room is dark except for the light from my blinking sweater. 

“Yes, this should work,” Baz says and turns the lights back on. 

“Remember, don’t use fire, or they will be able to see you.”

“Thank you, Captain Obvious. I have a weapon,” Baz says and pulls out a curved dagger and unsheathes it. 

It’s sheath and hilt look like bronze with Egyptian symbols embossed on it and the blade looks like iron. 

“It’s been in my family for a long time. It was made from a meteor,” he says. 

“You have an ancient Egyptian space dagger?” I ask. 

“Pretty much.”

“I wish I had a cool weapon.”

“You literally have the Sword of Mages,” Baz says. 

“Yeah, but it’s not from space.”

“You’re ridiculous,” he says.

“Alright. So. We leave the lights on, let them in, turn off the lights then kill them?” I ask, making sure I have the plan straight. 

“ _I_ leave the lights on, let them in, turn the lights off then kill them,” he corrects. 

“But I stay in the room in case anything goes wrong,” I say. 

“No. You’re literally blinking. They’ll see you with that sweater on.”

“Whose fault is that?” I ask. 

“My aunt Fiona’s. She gets me this stuff every year.”

“But if you just gave me something else to wear-”

“If ifs and buts were candy and nuts, we'd all have a merry Christmas.”

I growl. I don’t think there’s any way to reason with him on this. 

“Calm down, Snow. This will be quick and easy.”

“Do you even know how to use a blade?” I ask. 

“Stick em’ with the pointy end.”

“You got that from Game of Thrones.”

“Is it untrue?”

I sigh and say, “No.”

“Then all is well, Snow.” 

I could probably bust through the wall with **Oh yeah!** if he needs help, even if he spells the doors closed. He doesn’t need to know that though.

“Okay. I’m going to stay in here with the lights off so my eyes are fully adjusted to the darkness by the time they get here. Go play Skyrim or something. I’ll come and get you when it’s over.”

Then he shuts the doors to the foyer in my face and I hear, “ **_Close the gates!_ **”

I’m definitely not going to play Skyrim right now. 

I sit on the floor with my back against the door. I see the light from under it go off.

Then I wait. 

About fifteen minutes go by before _Deck the Halls_ rings. 

I see the lights under the door flick on, then hear, “ **_Open sesame!_ **” 

Then the lights turn back off, and I hear something not quite human shout, “Umbagon va!” 

Then I hear a shrill inhuman scream followed by lots of clanging and the sound of large wings flapping.

I stand up and call the Sword of Mages, and stand with my ear against the door. 

Then I hear a horrible loud wheezing sound accompanied by the sound of liquid gushing… I know that sound. Someone got their throat slit. 

“Se morghe mēre kostagon ūndegon!” another not entirely human voice screams.

Then there’s more flapping, and then a loud thud of something hitting the ground hard while the chandelier clatters like crazy. 

There’s a _shoop_ sound, then grunting and splattering. 

A moment later the lights flick back on and I hear Baz’s voice say, “ **_Open the gates!_ **”

I open the doors, and the room is filled with three dead strix and a pool of blood in the dead center. I look up and the fourth strix is tangled in the chandelier with a spear through it. 

I hope the chandelier isn’t ruined. It looks very expensive.

Baz on the other hand looks perfect, as usual. Not a hair out of place. He’s been in battle all day and he may as well look like he just got ready for the day. 

“What are you doing?” Baz asks, looking at my sword, which is still out. “I told you to go play Skyrim.”

“I’m not going to play Skyrim while you’re fighting a small horde.” 

“Snow, I told you it was going to be fine and it was. Go play while I clean this up.”

“We still don’t even know what the five golden rings are. We need a plan,” I say. 

“Of course we need a plan, but how are we supposed to plan against something we don’t even know what it is?”

“Maybe it’s snakes?”

“Snakes?”

“Yeah. Like yellow snakes,” I say. 

“I’m not even going to dignify that with a response. **_Ashes to Ashes! Dust to dust!_ **” 

As Baz starts sweeping up strix, I say, “Do you have any better ideas?”

“No.”

“Then why not snakes?”

“Because then why not anything else? Maybe it’s magicked hula hoops, or Tolkien's Rings of Power, or maybe it’s a werewolf with a golden bell and he rings it five times?”

“Or she.”

Baz starts doing his yoga breathing. 

“I’m just trying to be helpful,” I say. 

“Well, you’re not being helpful. You’re being a nuisance.” 

“I just feel so useless right now.”

“You _are_ useless.”

We both pause and let those words linger. 

After a moment, he says, “Right now, we’re both useless. All we can do is wait for four o’clock and see what happens… Just go to the library and do some of those easier yoga poses I taught you and I’ll join you when I’m done cleaning.”

I don’t think he’s trying to be a dick anymore. I think this is his genuine advice.

“Okay,” I say softly, and leave, closing the foyer doors behind me. 

I go to the library and there is no yoga mat, but I don’t think I really need one. 

I sit on the floor in the Sukhasana pose. Which is basically just regular sitting. 

I place my hands on my knees, like Baz showed me before, and breathe in and out through my nose, pulling my chest forward, lift my chin up, facing the ceiling, and take a big inhale.

Then I exhale to round my spine, tuck my chin and cave my chest.

I keep doing this and some of my tension disappears. It’s hard to relax knowing that the clock is ticking for another attack. But the clock seems further away.

When Baz comes in, he silently sits next to me and does it with me.

After a few more repetitions, he says, “Alright. Now reach your hands out past your sides so your fingertips barely touch the ground like we did last time.”

When I reach my hand out, it brushes against Baz’s hand like it did last time. I don’t know if we’re too on edge or too relaxed to be bothered this time, but neither of us recoil.

We just continue doing the same stretches we did last time. 

After a while he asks, “How do you feel now, Snow?”

“Better, I think.”

“Okay, you wanted a plan?”

“Yeah.” 

“Okay. Since we don’t know what it is we just don’t do anything. We keep the lights on so we can see it. We keep the doors open so what happened with the Strix yesterday doesn’t happen again. No cumbersome armor. No slippery floor. We don’t prepare at all. Our plan is to not plan. Tomorrow, when we know what it is, then we can plan.”

I don’t like this at all.

“I wish your door had a peephole,” I say.

Baz roughly rubs a hand over his face, then wordlessly gets up, walking out. 

I get up and follow. 

He walks right up to the front door, and pulls at some of the decorative paneling on the door, until he finds a piece that moves, revealing a peephole.

“This is your house. How did you not think to use the peephole?” I ask him. 

“Shut the fuck up. I don’t think I’ve ever answered the door until four days ago.”

“Well, at least now we know it’s there,” I say trying to stay positive.

“Shut the fuck up,” Baz says again, still mad he didn’t think to look for this before. 

“Okay. There’s five minutes before it shows up. I’ll stand by the door, ready to open it. You stand by the light switch. If it’s something you can kill in the dark, you can turn off the light. If it’s not, then we’ll just wing it…”

He nods and gets in place. 

I stare through the peephole for a while, then get too antsy and decide to wait for it to ring before I look. So I just lean against the door with my sword drawn. 

When _Deck the Halls_ plays, I look through the peephole.

“What is it?” Baz asks quietly. 

“It’s our Greek teacher!”

As I open up the door to let him in Baz yells, “No! Wait!”

Our nine foot tall minotaur Greek teacher walks in and Baz turns off the lights. 

Seconds later I heard rustling, then a thud against the wall and Baz grunts. 

I think “ _I wish I could see,”_ and the light comes on.

The minotaur takes Bazs dagger out of his chest and says, “This is a fine blade. Maybe I’ll shave my chin with it.”

He doesn't sound like our Greek teacher. His voice is too deep and raspy. 

Then I notice the big golden ring piercing in his septum and smaller ones on his eyebrows. 

“It’s him!” I yell as the minotaur takes a huge battle axe off his back.

“Simon, run!” Baz yells, getting up from the ground. 

The minotaur swings his axe at me, and I duck. His axe gets stuck in the wall and I use that opportunity to shove my sword into his gut.

The minotaur backhands me onto the ground. 

He ignores the sword stuck in him and when he gets his axe free, he raises it up. I start crawling backwards to get away, and right before he can bring the axe down on me, Baz tackles him like a professional rugby player. 

I get up and go for the nailgun. 

The minotaur picks up Baz by the throat with one hand. Baz has one hand on the minotaurs wrist to relieve some of the pressure and takes his wand out with the other. The minotaur knocks the wand out of his hand, so Baz uses that hand to pound on the minotaurs arm.

With the nailgun aimed at him I shout, “Put him down!”

The minotaur chuckles and says, “Do it.”

I pull the trigger and nothing happens. 

I pull the trigger a few more times and still nothing happens. 

I look down the barrel to see if there’s any nails in it and the minotaur says, “You'll shoot your eye out, kid.”

Baz kicks him in the crotch, and he drops him.

Baz says, “Snow, follow me!” and runs to the hall.

I go with and he runs to the stairs. As we’re going up Baz asks, “Do you have your wand?”

I pat my pockets and say, “Yeah.” 

The minotaur busts into the stair room and yells, “I’m going to rip you in half for that!” 

“When he gets to the top of the stairs, cast **The bigger they are the harder they fall!** ” 

I get out my wand and keep running down the hall. Baz stops a meter or so past his bedroom door. 

I’m about to ask him why he stopped, but the minotaur reached the top of the stairs, so I cast, “ **_The bigger they are the harder they fall!_ **” 

Baz runs at him, then drop kicks him, pushing him through the banister. 

There’s two really loud crashing sounds. 

I stop and watch Baz get on his hands and knees and peer over the landing.

“Is he dead?” I ask. 

Baz doesn’t say anything. He just stares. 

I walk a little closer. 

“Baz? Is he dead?” I ask again. 

“I think so,” he says. 

I walk next to Baz and look down. It fell through the floor to another story of the house I didn’t even know existed. 

“I can’t believe _you_ call _me_ a speciest,” Baz says.  
  
“Huh?”

“Not all minotaurs look alike.” 

“I’ve never seen another one. How was I supposed to know?” I say.

“He didn’t look anything like our Greek teacher.”

“How do we get down there?” I ask.

“Follow me,” he says, and I do. 

He goes down the stairs and into the kitchen, then opens a door. There are stairs that lead down and as we descend we’re assaulted by a horrible musty smell. 

“Crowley, you must have made it rain down here too,” he says. 

The basement is massive and full of puddles. 

“What is all this stuff?” I ask, eyeing all the doors, one being a big creepy metal door. 

“Do you want a tour now or do you want to make sure that thing is dead?”

I say nothing and we pass a hallway of doors, and end up in what looks like a less lavish living room. 

In between that and what looks like a smaller dining room is the minotaur in a crater. It looks like he got dropped from space. 

Baz goes up to it and puts his hands on it’s neck.

“What are you doing?” I ask.

“Checking his pulse.”

Then Baz moves his hand to a spot on it’s chest and I ask, “What are you doing now?”

“Checking his other pulse.”

“It has two pulses?” 

“Yes. Well, it _had_ two. It’s dead now. Minotaurs have two of almost every organ. It’s part of what makes them so hard to kill. You can stab them in one heart, and they still have the other to keep them going.”

“It’s supposed to be five golden rings, right?” I ask. 

“Yes. Why?”

“Well, he has the one on his nose, then two on his right eyebrow and one on his left. That’s only four.”

Baz studies it for a moment, then recoils a little and says, “Crowley… There’s only one place I can think of that can be pierced that we can’t see.”

“What do you mean?”

“Snow, you don’t want to know.”

“I don’t get it. Where could he be pierced?” 

“For your own sanity, drop it,” he says.

“Do you mean its tongue?”

Baz opens its mouth and looks in. 

“No. Not its tongue,” he says. 

I don’t get it. 

“I think we need to make sure it has five so we know that there’s not another one on it’s way,” I say. 

“I’d rather we didn’t.”

“I’d rather we did.”

“No you don’t,” he says.

I huff. He’s impossible to argue with sometimes. 

“What’s down here anyways?” I ask. 

“I’m not sure. This is where the servants live. I don’t go down here. But feel free to look around while I dry it.”

I wish I could be more helpful, but even if I had a way to be, he probably wouldn’t let me. 

I walk away, and start opening up the doors that were in the hallway. It’s pretty much all just sheets and blankets. How much fabric can one family need? 

I go back over to the creepy metal door, and I realize right next to it is a glass door with a monitor on it. I look at it and it’s displaying ten degrees. I look through the glass and see very long rows of wine. This modern edition is in stark contrast with most of the rest of the stuff in the house. 

I go to the metal door and open it and inside it’s cold and full of food. 

I go inside to see if there’s anything to eat. 

It’s mostly like the fridge upstairs, but there’s more. There’s loads of different vegetables and meats. 

I wonder if it’s spelled to keep food from spoiling. 

The only thing I see that doesn’t need to be cooked is cheese. There’s huge wheels of them. 

I call the Sword of Mages to cut one and when it doesn’t come I remember it’s still probably in the foyer. It turns invisible and incorporeal when I want it to, but it doesn’t teleport. 

I go to leave the room, but then the door is stuck. I press on it harder but it still doesn’t budge. 

I try ramming it with my shoulder but it shows no signs of giving way. 

I bang on the door and yell, “Baz?”

After about five minutes of hitting the door and yelling, I hear Baz say, “What?”

“I’m stuck in the fridge!” I yell.

“What? I can’t hear you!” he yells back.

“Let me out!” I shout. 

“Snow, I can’t hear you!”

Oh, he’s just taking the piss. 

“Stop being such a tosser and let me out!” I demand. 

“Snow, I’m really busy! I don’t have time for this!”

“BAZ!” I shout. 

Then nothing.

“BAZ?!” 

Silence. 

I bang on the door and shout, “BAZ!” 

Fucking hell. 

I rub my hands together then put them over my mouth to blow hot air on them. 

I knew it. I fucking knew it. He was going to trap me somewhere and kill me. 

I turn around and see the Elf on a Shelf sitting on a stack of cheese wheels. What the fuck? I could have sworn you weren't there a second ago.

I start pacing around in the fridge. 

I wish I was more upset by this because then my magic would be generating heat. But it’s been a long day and I’m just tired and hungry. 

I wonder what will kill me first. The cold or starvation. 

Probably the starvation. Baz would want my death to be ironic. Starving in a room full of food. While an Elf on a Shelf smiles at me.

I wonder if Penelope will regret that her last words to me were, “I have to pack.”

I hope not. She probably won’t. She always said she hates goodbyes. 

I’m startled by the sound of the door opening.

“You know you have a wand, right Snow?” Baz says. 

I give him two fingers and he rolls his eyes and says, “Come on. I’m making roast beef.”

“I’ve been in here for like twenty minutes!”

“So you want to stay in here?”

“No.”

“Then come on,” he says, holding the door open. 

When I walk out I rub my hands over my arms and say, “It was really cold in there.”

“At least it wasn’t the freezer.” 

“I could have died!” 

“Again, you had a wand. You could have come out whenever you wanted,” he says as we go up the stairs. 

The kitchen smells amazing and it makes my stomach growl.

“You’re actually making roast beef,” I say, surprised.

“Did you think that was code for something?”

“No. I just thought you were pulling my leg.”

I don’t know why, but that put the thought of him physically pulling my leg in my head. I really don’t know why, but it’s stuck in my head now. 

I sit on a stool in the kitchen and Baz hands me a red mug with white snowflakes. 

“What’s this?” I ask. 

“It’s hot cocoa with whipped cream.”

I wrap my hands around it because it’s warm, then I smell it. It smells chocolatey and delicious so I take a sip. It’s so good that I feel my eyes flutter. I get whipped cream on my upper lip so I lick it off.

“This whipped cream is really good,” I tell him. 

He just stares at me.

“Did you make it yourself?” I ask. 

“What?”

“The whipped cream. Did you make it?”

“Oh. Yeah. It’s easy. You just put heavy cream, sugar and vanilla in a mixer,” he says. 

“Well, it’s good. Thanks.”

I’m surprised when I see Baz has a mug too. I never see him drink anything other than tea. His mug is green with white snowflakes.

After I slurp all the whipped cream off, Baz says, “There’s more in the bowl,” and points to it on the counter. 

I get out a spoon and start eating it by itself. 

Then I remember the sprinkles drawer. 

I open it up, and oh yeah. I find some chocolate sprinkles and put them on top.

After I shove a few spoonfuls in my mouth, I realize Baz is watching me, so I ask, “Do you want some?”

For a moment, I half expect him to reach for my spoon. He didn’t mind sharing last night. But then he gets out a new one from the drawer. 

I tilt the bowl in his direction so he can see, and he takes a spoonful and eats it. 

I smile at him, hoping to get a spark of what I saw yesterday, but as we take turns taking spoonfuls, he eats the whipped cream with a grave seriousness. 

I almost want to bump his shoulder with mine and tell him to lighten up. But that would be weird and I’m also not over being left in the fridge. 

When we finish the bowl, Baz takes it to the sink, and as he's cleaning it, the oven dings. 

Baz puts on his oven mitts and takes the roast beef out of the oven. It smells a bit different than the roast beef at Watford but it’s on a par with it. 

He sets it on the counter, gets out two plates and says, “Go wait in the dining room.” 

It’s work to pry my eyes away from Baz’s hot meat, but I do it. 

I go wait in the dining room, and soon Baz comes in with two plates of roast beef, knives and forks. 

I immediately start eating when he sets it down and after the first bite I say, “Merlin and Morgona, Baz. Your beef is the best thing I’ve had in my mouth all day.”

He chokes on a piece he’s eating. That’s got to be the first time I’ve seen him do something that wasn’t graceful. 

Then I realize, he’s eating in front of me. He’s chewing with a hand covering his mouth.

Does this mean he trusts me more now, or that he got lazy and stopped caring? 

I decide not to comment on it. I don’t want him to change his mind about eating around me. 

When we’re finished he takes our plates and washes them. 

I offer to do it, but he says, “I neither trust you with the fine china nor think you’re capable of cleaning something properly.” 

After the leftovers are put away, Baz and I wordlessly goes back to his room. 

I get the laptop and bring it up there. 

“Are you seriously going to watch Frozen again?” he asks. 

“There isn’t anything else to do.”

“Put it on the bed. I need a break from thinking about the six geese a laying,”

I haven’t even thought that far ahead. 

Maybe I should, but we were way off with the four colly birds, so maybe there’s no point. 

We watch the movie, and I really want to sing along because I know the lyrics now, but I know Baz would throw a snit and the peaceful silence is better than the arguing from earlier and I don’t want to jinx it. 

When the movie is over, Baz says, “I’m going to sleep.”

I yawn and say “Me too.”

I put the laptop under the couch and Baz turns off the lights.

I get as comfortable as I can on the couch and I go to sleep happy knowing I can have roast beef leftovers tomorrow. 


	7. The Sixth Day of Christmas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On the sixth day of Christmas The Humdrum gave to me: six geese a laying, five golden rings, four Colly birds, three French hens, two turtle doves, and a partridge in a peartree.

**Wednesday, December 18th**

I wake up and Baz is still asleep, so I go downstairs. 

My neck hurts. I think the couch is putting my head at a weird angle.

I remember I left the fruitcake out in the TV room yesterday, so I throw it out. 

I would make tea, but I don’t want to fuck up Baz’s tea set. 

Maybe I can talk Baz into teaching me to make scones today. 

I open the fridge and stare at the fruitcakes. I’m hungry but I can’t decide if I’m desperate enough to eat one again. 

Then I stare at the roast beef. I should probably save it for later. But it’s just sitting there, waiting to be eaten. It wants to be eaten and I want to eat it.

I look back at the fruitcakes. 

If I get some water, maybe I can swallow pieces whole and not have to taste it. 

Baz told me how to make whipped cream and the heavy cream is right there. I think I could manage it. He didn’t say how much of what to use, but I could taste and add more of whatever it needs more of.

But the roast beef. 

“What are you doing?” Baz asks, making me jump.

“How long were you standing there?” I ask. 

“Way too long.”

“I was looking for something to eat,” I say. 

“Move,” Baz says, getting into my space in front of the fridge. 

I move aside, and Baz gets out some eggs, and asks, “How do you want them?”

“What are my options?”

“Anything but deviled.”

“Can you make scrambled eggs?” I ask. 

“I offer to make you eggs any way you want, and you ask if I’m capable of scrambling them?” 

“Yes?” 

“Of course I can scramble them, moron.” 

“Thanks,” I say. 

It’s so hard to know what to say when he’s doing something nice for me and insulting me. 

He gets out a pan, then gets out the tea set. 

“Where’s the other tea cup?” he asks.

“Oh. Uhh. The cockatrice broke it,” I say. 

“None of the cockatrice went in this wing of the house.”

“Okay. It may have broken the teacup with its head when I threw it at it in the TV room.”

“You tried to kill a cockatrice with a teacup?”

“I was trying to save the telly. Don’t tell me you would have preferred that to get destroyed.”

“It’s just that it was part of a set. There’s still five more teacups. But now if there’s six people, someone will have to have a teacup that doesn’t match,” he says. 

It’s a ridiculous complaint, but somehow I think that genuinely bothers him.

“Go to the dining room. I’ll bring you your eggs,” he says.

I go. I don’t think I’ll ever get used to Baz waiting on me, but it’s getting easier to accept. 

Before long he brings in the tray of tea, and the fluffiest scrambled eggs I’ve ever had. But Baz still isn’t eating breakfast.

“I’ve seen you eat multiple times now. It’s not a big deal. You should eat,” I say.

“I don’t need to eat as much as most people.”

“Is it because you’re a vampire?”

“Yes. Now finish your breakfast. We have stuff to do.”

I eat the last of my eggs and Baz takes my plate back into the kitchen. 

When he comes back, he puts our teacups on the tray and carries it to the library and I follow. 

Baz sets the tray down on a table, pours himself a new cup of tea, and sits down on a chair. 

I’m not a caffeine addict, so I leave my cup on the tray and sit across from him. 

We’re just sitting here, so I remind him, “you said we had stuff to do?”

“Last night I was thinking so hard about what the geese could be that something important about yesterday didn’t occur to me.”

“And what’s that?” I ask. 

“What makes the minotaur so different from everything else we’ve seen?”

“Piercings?” 

Baz shakes his head. 

“He was tall?” I offer. 

Baz shakes his head again.

“He was kind of mean?”

“How so?” Baz asks.

“He was trash talking and threatening us.” 

“Precisely.” 

“What?” I ask, confused. 

“He spoke English.”

“Yeah?”

“That means we can interrogate him. We can find out what to expect or maybe even a way to end this sooner,” Baz says. 

“How would we even get him to tell us?”

Baz shoots me this smile that’s full of trouble. A week ago it would have unnerved me, but right now it makes me excited. 

I still don’t know if we’re friends, but right here, right now, we’re definitely comrades. 

“When we fought that peryton in the artifacts room, you didn’t get a good look at what we have. We have a ballista that I’m pretty sure I can get to work.”

“A what?” I ask. 

“It’s like a crossbow that’s as tall as I am.”

“How do you hold it?” I ask. 

“No. Snow. You don’t hold it. You stand behind it and aim. They’re not very mobile, but this one is on wheels.”

“So we’re going to hold a minotaur at gunpoint?”

“At ballistapoint, yes.” 

“I wanna see it,” I say. 

Baz gets up and we walk to the stairs room. We walk around the huge hole in the floor and go into the artifacts room. It’s a lot bigger than I realized. 

We walk to the back and in the corner is a huge crossbow looking thing with a massive bolt.

“So we’re going to point this at the minotaur?” I ask. 

“That’s the idea.” 

“This is mad.”

“You mean excellent?”

“Actually, yeah.”

“Wait here. I’ll be back,” he says, and disappears. 

A few minutes later I hear him shout, “Snow!” from the stairs room, and I go out there and he’s holding some planks under one arm and the nailgun in the other hand. 

He places them so they bridge the hole, and says, “Hold it steady for me.”

I do and he nails them in place.

“How do you get the nailgun to work? It didn’t fire when I tried last night,” I say.

“You have to have it pressed against something,” he says, then walks to my side and nails them in place there too.

We walk back to the ballista and start pushing it out of the room. It’s heavier than it looks and it looks heavy. If Baz weren’t a vampire, I don’t think we’d be able to get this thing to budge.

“I’ve always wanted to use this again, but I never in a million years thought I’d get the chance,” he says. 

“ _Again?_ ”

“In the artifacts room, on the wall there’s a hole behind a painting. When I was twelve, I just wanted to see how it worked. I didn’t mean to actually fire it.”

“You must have gotten in so much trouble,” I say.

“Actually, I just moved the painting ten centimeters to the right and no one even knew.”

“That’s absolutely bloody brilliant.”

We push it down the hall until we reach the doors to the foyer. 

“We’ll have it right behind the doors, and I’ll spell them open and surprise him when the time comes,” he says. 

“I can’t believe you’ve had this all along. We could have been using it this whole time.”

“Simon, it’s a powerful weapon but not the most applicable. It’s not magical, so it can’t hurt a peryton. It takes a while to load one bolt and the cockatrice are fast. Plus, it’s mostly wood and they breathe fire. It’s possible to kill one of the Strix with it, but it’s hardly efficient.”

“Yeah,” I say a little disappointed. “I guess you’re right.”

It would have been cool if we could use this to kill everything. 

Right as we get it in place _Deck the Halls_ ring.

“I got this, Snow,” Baz says and heads for the door.

“It’s stupid to do any of these encounters alone. Something could go wrong,” I say, following him.

“Like yesterday, when you got hit in the bollocks? Or the day before when you overslept? It’s just an ent and a bird,” he says, lighting a fire in his palm.

When he opens the door, I try to keep my body behind the door so I don’t get hit again. 

Baz immediately throws the fire ball, which grazes the bird, catching it on fire as it zooms towards us.

The tree busts into flames and Baz casts, “ **_Sod off!_ **” which sends the tree flying back into the blizzard. 

But the flaming partridge is flying right at Baz, so I tackle him to the ground and the bird zooms over us. 

Then Baz casts “ **_Dead in the air! Make a wish!_ **” Now all that’s left is a partridge carcass on the rug. 

After a moment I realize I’m still on top of Baz so I roll off and get up.

“Baz, if we’re going to survive this, we can’t be stupid. Refusing help is stupid.”

“It really is rock bottom when you’re getting ‘don’t be stupid’ lessons from Simon Snow.”

“You’re welcome,” I say and give him a hand up. He takes it. 

“Go to my room and pick out a shirt that doesn’t blink so the perytons don’t focus on you. I’ll be in the library.”

I go up to Baz’s room and into his closet. I open the drawer I know has the workout clothes. 

I find a stretchy black long sleeve shirt. It’s a little tight on me but it’s not uncomfortable, and it’s warm. 

I leave the sweater on the bench and go downstairs. 

When I walk into the library, Baz looks up from a book and gives me a board look over, then goes back to reading.

“You know a group of geese is called a gaggle, right?” he asks. 

“Yeah.”

“How about that while they fly together, they’re called a plump?” 

“No… Is that important?” I ask. 

“No. It’s just the only thing I can find on them. There aren’t any goose based creatures, so I think this one is going to be another surprise.”

We spend our time before they perytons combing the library for anything bird related. 

The only things I’ve learned are what a cloaca is and the fact that I wish I didn’t know what that is. 

Shortly before 1:00, Baz and I get ready in the foyer. 

He gets out the sheet and practices the matador motions.

I stand next to the door and ready my sword. 

When _Deck the Halls_ plays, Baz opens the door. 

I bring my sword down on the first one that flies in, but I miss it’s head and body. I took off a large portion of its antlers, and what I didn’t take off is now stuck in the floor.

I stab it then go help Baz.

Baz is holding out the sheet as the peryton flies right where he wants it to while he side steps it. Every time he just narrowly misses getting hit by the antlers. But I think he could do this all day without getting hit. 

When he sees that I’m ready, he lets the peryton get stuck in the sheet, then I drive my sword through it. 

“Leave me,” Baz commands, now that they’re dead. 

“You can ask more nicely,” I tell him. 

Baz sighs and rolls his eyes, then says, “Snow, may I have some privacy so I can enjoy my breakfast?”

“That wasn’t so hard, was it?” I ask and pat him on the shoulder. 

“Get out,” he demands. 

I pick up the antlers I broke off and take them with me to the TV room.

I use my sword to cut everything off the longest piece. Then once I have basically a bendy stick, I use my blade to sharpen the end. 

Maybe I shouldn’t have done this in this room. I’ve made a pile of antler shards and shavings.

I go back to the foyer, and Baz says, “Seriously, Snow! Did you parents not teach you to knock? Oh, wait. That’s right. They didn’t teach you anything because they didn’t think you were worth keeping.”

I feel my pulse thrum through my whole body and my eyes sting. 

“I made you a magical weapon. Just in case something happened to me, I wanted to make sure you could take care of yourself,” I say, and throw the carved antler at his feet. 

He doesn’t say anything, so I turn around and go upstairs. 

I get Baz’s laptop out from his room, shoulder checking and cracking the doorframe on my way out, and take it into the guest room. The wraiths can bother me all they want. I really don’t give a fuck anymore. 

I sit on the bed and think about screaming. I think about how good it would feel to snap the laptop in two against the wall. I think about how good it would feel to go off and destroy everything in Baz’s room. 

I see the Elf on a Shelf sitting on top of a dresser, smiling at me and I imagine ripping its arms and legs off and throwing it out the window.

Then I notice the sheet smoldering underneath me and I get out my wand.

“ **_Hold fast! Suck it up! Steady on! Keep it together!_ **” 

I calm down. I’m still upset. But now it’s manageable. 

He didn’t come running so either the smell of smoke didn’t make it to him or he doesn’t give a fuck anymore. 

Not that he gave a fuck about anything other than protecting his house before. 

Not that he should. 

I should watch Frozen to get my mind off this. But I can’t seem to will myself to do anything other than stare at the closed laptop. 

I feel frozen. 

When I taste salt I realize tears are coming down. I use my sleeve to wipe them away. 

Baz hasn’t been able to make me cry in years. Why is it different now? Why does this hurt so much?

I get all the way on the bed and lay on my side. 

Where are those damn wraiths? I’d love to blow one up right now. 

I don’t think I’ve seen one since Saturday. 

Baz says they don’t bother him because he creeps them out. Maybe they saw me covered in blood, caterpillaring across the house and now I creep them out too.

I stay there for a long time, being angry at Baz and trying to understand why I’m so angry at Baz. But then I realize it’s been a long time, and the cockatrice will probably be here soon. Even if he totally deserves it, I can’t let Baz burn to a crisp.

I get up and when I open the door, Baz is right there and we both jump.

I look away to avoid eye contact, and he clears his throat, then says, “Snow. I’m sorry for what I said before. I’m just really uncomfortable with people seeing me feed… That’s not how I want you to think of me.”

“How do you want me to think of you?” I ask. 

He pauses, thinking over his words carefully and simply says, “Not like that.”

I don’t really know what he means, but I think it’s coming from somewhere sincere. 

“Alright. When you’re feeding, I’ll leave you alone,” I say. 

“Thank you.”

“So, is it time to get ready for the cockatrice?” I ask. 

“Yes, but I have a new idea.”

We end up doing what we usually do. We get everything wet so it won’t burn. Baz gets more bundled up than a mummy. 

Wait. He's Egyptian. Is that racist?

I’m about to ask him if comparing him to a mummy is racist when I miss a step and stumble a bit on the stairs. 

“Alright, Snow?” Baz asks. 

“Yeah,” I say, regaining my stance. 

We’re carrying this massive mirror we pried off his parents bathroom wall down. It’s longer than Baz is tall and almost as tall as me.

We bring it past the ballista and into the foyer.

I almost slip on the water. (We probably should have brought the mirror down first.)

“So, do we get something to prop this against?” I ask. 

“No time. **_Close the gates!_ **”

The foyer doors close and lock. 

This mirror is heavy and I need both hands to hold up my side, so I can’t call my sword and that makes me nervous. 

We wait a moment, then _Deck the Halls_ rings. 

“ **_Open sesame!_ **” 

The front door opens up and the cockatrice scramble in screeching, “ _Brahaaaahk!_ ” and as soon as they see the mirror, they all turn to stone. 

“Well, that was incredibly easy,” Baz says, letting his blanket fall, then taking off his mask. 

“Maybe for you,” I say, struggling to keep my side of the mirror up. 

“Let’s take this into the library,” he says, so I pick my side back up and we walk it around the ballista and lean it against one of the bookshelves.

“Can you move the cockatrice in there too?” he asks, then starts drying the room.

The cockatrice aren’t as heavy as they look, so I’m able to move all three with relative ease. 

“So, since I don’t blink anymore, will I be fine if I’m in the room when the Strix come?” I ask. 

“If you hide in the coat closet.”

“What? Why?”

“If they see you before the lights go out, they’ll know you’re there. After the lights go out, you won’t be able to see to evade them. It’ll be easier to kill them if I don’t also have to protect a blind idiot.”

I know he just called me an idiot, but the fact that he’s concerned for my safety makes me smile.

“Okay. What time do we have to begin preparing for the Strix?” I ask. 

“2:35. So about twenty minutes,” he says. 

“Okay. I’ll be back then. I’m gonna play some Skyrim.”

Baz nods and I pop into the TV room.

Instead of picking up the controller, I start picking up all the pieces of the teacup I broke yesterday. 

There are three big pieces that I find quickly, but then there’s a bunch of little pieces scattered around.

After I find as many as I can, I put the pieces on the table, get my wand out and say, “ **_As you were!_ **” 

All the pieces stick together, forming the shape of the teacup, but it’s still cracked and there’s chips and holes in it. 

I try “ **_Good as new!_ **” and it gives the teacup a bit of a shine, but the cracks and chips remain. 

“ **_Back together!_ ** ”

Nothing.

I don’t know a lot of repair spells because usually Penelope is around to fix stuff for me, but I want to fix this for Baz.

“ **_Quick fix!_ **”

Still nothing. 

I think about it for a while then try, “ **_Make whole!_ **” and it works! The cracks seal up, and the chips all patch. You can’t even see where they were. The pattern on it looks good as new. 

When there’s a knock on the door I almost drop it. It falls out of my hands but I catch it just in time. 

I set it down and go to the door. 

When I open it, Baz just says, “It’s time,” and walks away.

I go into the foyer and Baz closes the doors behind me. 

“ **_Close the gates!_ **” 

Then Baz turns off the lights and it’s pitch black.

“Can you see?” I ask. 

“A little bit. But after twenty minutes I’ll be able to see perfectly fine. My eyes just need to adjust.” 

He’s talking oddly loud. If I didn’t know better, I’d say he sounds nervous. 

With my sight gone, the only thing I can focus on is sounds and I hear his breathing. It’s shallow and uneven. 

“Baz?” I whisper.

“You don’t have to whisper. There’s no one here,” he says, almost like he’s trying to remind himself of that. 

“Are you okay?” I ask. 

“I’m fine.”

His breathing is erratic. 

I wonder if he’s afraid of the Strix after what they did to his shoulder. 

I think he’d get offended if I asked. 

“Hey, Baz? Can you walk me through the yoga breathing again?”

I’m about to lie and say that the anticipation is making me nervous, but before I get the chance, he says, “Breath in through your nose.”

I hear him do it and do it with him.

After about four seconds he says, “Then exhale through your mouth.”

I do that with him too.

“Inhale… Exhale…”

After a few minutes of that, I can tell he’s calmed down. His breathing is steady.

“Can you see yet?” I ask. 

“Yes.”

I wave a hand in front of my face. I can’t see it.

I do jazz hands and ask, “What am I doing right now?”

“Making a fool of yourself.”

I give him a two finger salute and he says, “You’re not facing anywhere near me.”

I give the whole room a two finger salute and he snickers. 

I can’t help but smile at that. 

After a few minutes, I say, “Should we come up with a code word if you want me to come out and help?”

“How about ‘help?’” 

“That’s too obvious.”

“Snow, they don’t speak English.”

“I guess you have a point,” I admit. 

“Alright, time to get in the closet, Snow.”

“I can’t see the closet.”

When he touches my elbow I jump. But then he gently pulls my arm, and I walk forward with one arm in front of me to make sure he doesn’t walk me into a wall.

“Alright. You’re entering the closet now,” he informs me. 

Then I feel soft coats and hear the jingle of the hangers. 

“Face me to the door,” I tell him.

He slowly spins me around with my shoulders. 

“Alright. Stay here unless I specifically yell for help, okay?” he asks. 

“Okay,” I agree. 

When I hear him walk off, I call the Sword of Mages. 

_Deck the Halls_ rings and the lights flick on. It’s blinding. 

“ **_Open sesame!_ **” 

I hear the soldiers shuffle in then the door slam and inhuman voice shout, “Indigon zirȳla!” 

Then the lights flick off.

“Sōvegon! Sōvegon!” the Strix shout. 

There’s the sound of massive swooshing wings then the jingle of one probably hitting the chandelier. 

There’s a loud thud like one hit the ground. Then there’s some clanking like iron on iron. 

There’s an inhuman screech and another loud thud. 

There’s a grunt and I hear one struggle to talk, saying, “Jaes mīsagon issa hen se morghe-” It’s cut off by the sound of a crunch. I’m pretty sure Baz just smashed it’s skull. 

There’s a soft thud like one landing, then the loud clang of iron on iron again.

The sound of wings swoosh again, then, “Ivestragī jikagon!” Then a loud thwap like the Strix was slammed against one of the pillars then another loud thwap of it hitting the ground with more force than gravity.

I hear breathing near me and realize there’s a Strix near me. I hear it whisper, “Perchta jāhor ossēnagon ao syt bisa .”

Then I hear a _ffth_ , and it thud against the wall and scraping noise going down the wall.

When the lights flick back on, I see the Strix slumped on the floor against the wall with Baz’s space dagger in its forehead. 

“Alright, Baz?” I ask. 

“I’m fine,” he says and walks up to get his dagger. 

I put away my sword. 

“What language do they speak?” I ask. He said they’re from Greece, but that isn’t Greek. 

“No idea. Probably some obscure Strix language. You should go eat. It might be awhile before you get another chance. Do you know how to work a microwave?”

“Yes,” I lie. 

“Good. So you aren’t totally helpless. I’m going to clean this then make sure the ballista works. **_Open the gates!_ ** Go eat.”

I go into the kitchen and take out the roast beef. I cut a big piece off and put it on my plate. I don’t mind eating it cold. 

When I put the rest of the roast beef back in the fridge, I see a drawer I didn’t notice before. It’s filled with cans. 

I take out a Tizer and go sit on a stool and eat my roast beef. 

When Baz walks in, he walks up to me and pokes my roast beef. 

“Oi!” I shout, and move my plate away from him. 

“I knew it. You don’t know how to use a microwave, do you?”

“Okay. Fine. Yes, I’m an idiot.”

Baz snatches my plate faster than lightning, and takes it to the microwave. He puts it in and presses a few buttons and the inside lights up and slowly starts spinning. 

After a minute or so, it dings, and Baz takes it out, and sets it in front of me again.

“Thanks,” I say. 

I didn’t mind it cold, but it is better hot. 

Baz takes my fork and steals a piece before giving it to me.

Then he says, “I’ll be in the library looking for info on minotaurs,” and walks off.

I could go watch Frozen while I eat this, but I think I’d rather watch Baz, so I take it with me to the library. He doesn’t acknowledge me when I come in so I just sit somewhere I can see him and start eating.

When I’m done, I ask, “Learn anything new?”

“No. But I don’t really expect to. I'm just doing due diligence.”

I go back in the kitchen and cut another piece of roast beef onto my plate and put it in the microwave. I try to copy what Baz did, but I burn it a little. But that’s fine. It’ll still taste alright. 

I bring it back to the library and Baz must have smelled it because he asks, “Do I need to give you microwave lessons?”

“Fuck off. It was my first try. At least I didn’t set anything on fire.”

When I’m done with that piece I just watch him read. He either doesn’t notice or mind. Watching him read is kind of peaceful. It makes me forget the shit situation we’re in.

But before long, it’s time and we’re back in war mode.

Baz readies himself at the ballista and I close the foyer doors, hiding him.

I stand in the middle of the foyer and call the Sword of Mages. 

After a few minutes, as expected, _Deck the Halls_ rings. 

I point my wand at the door and say, “ **_Open sesame!_ **” 

The door opens, revealing a minotaur with five golden rings through his left eyebrow. 

He walks in and closes the door behind him.

He reaches for the axe on his back, then Baz yells, “ **_Open sesame!_ **” and the foyer doors burst open.

The minotaur's hands drop.

“Why are you here?” I ask him.

“To suck your guts and lick your heart.”

I shiver at that. 

“Okay, but why?” I ask. 

“You’re on someone’s naughty list,” he says ominously. 

“Is it that thing we’ve seen outside? With the horns.”

He doesn’t say anything. 

I ask, “What comes after you? What are the six geese a laying?”

When he still doesn’t say anything, I look at Baz, unsure what to do, and Baz pulls the trigger.

The bolt goes by so fast that by the time I turn around, the minotaur is impaled, pinned to the door with the bolt in his chest.

He groans in pain, then there’s a clatter. 

I look down and see he dropped a dagger. 

“He didn’t even tell us anything yet,” I complain. 

“He was reaching for a weapon. I just saved your life.”

“Yeah, but we didn’t learn anything,” I say.

“Would you have preferred I let him kill you?” Baz asks, while the minotaur is still groaning in pain in the background.

“I guess not,” I say. 

The minotaur starts pounding on the bolt sticking out of him, trying to break it.

“Can you?” Baz asks, then slides a finger across his neck.

“Oh. Right,” I say. 

I walk over to the minotaur, and swing my sword high, and decapitate him.

“At least it went faster than yesterday,” Baz says. 

“Yeah. I guess that’s a plus.” 

“At this rate, we’re going to easily survive to next week. We know how to kill everything it sends after us pretty efficiently.”

“I suppose.” 

Baz walks up to the bolt and tries to pull it out. He uses both hands. Then he uses both hands and a foot against the door, trying as hard as he can to pull it out. 

I go and help him and we’re both pulling and it’s not budging. 

Baz gets out his wand and says, “ **_Heave-ho!_ **”

We pull it out and the minotaurs body slumps to the floor with a loud thud.

“Alright, Snow. Go busy yourself while I clean.”

“Are you sure I can’t help?”

“Last time I asked you to clean you made a hole in the carpet.”

“I won’t use magic,” I say.

“It’ll just be faster if I do it. Go play Skyrim. Go to Riften and then go to The Temple of Mara.”

“Why?”

“You’ll see.”

I go to the TV room and pick up the controller. 

I’ve already been to Riften so I can just fast travel there.

Once I’m there it takes me a few minutes to find the temple, but once I find it, I talk to a monk that’s walking around. He tells me that if I wear an amulet of Mara, I can get married in the game. 

That’s kinda weird. 

I buy one from him and put it on. 

I talk to Onmund, my follower from the College of Winterhold, to give him the amulet I was wearing before and he says, “Is that an Amulet of Mara? I'm surprised that someone like you isn't spoken for."

I have the option to ask, “Interested in me, are you?” So I click it. 

Onmund says, "Well, yes. I mean, why wouldn't I be? Are you... interested in me?"

This is weird. I’ve definitely never thought of Onmund like that.

My options are to say, “Yes. Yes I am,” or “No. I'm not.” 

Saying you’re not interested at all seems a bit harsh, so I click yes. 

Then he says, “It's settled, then. As brief as life in Skyrim can be, at least we'll have each other."

A quest pops up to talk to the priest about the ceremony.

Did I just get engaged?

I guess it would be rude to back out now. 

I talk to the priest, and he tells me to come back the next evening, and I do. 

When I get there, Onmund is waiting for me next to an altar. 

When I walk up to him the ceremony starts, and we say our vows. I have options to say I changed my mind, but I don’t think I can do that to him after how long he’s been helping me. 

When it’s over, he asks me where I want to live and I say his house.

He leaves and I frown. 

Does this mean I can’t have him as a follower anymore?

Baz walks in and asks, “Did you find it?”

“Yeah.”

“And?”

“It was weird.”

“In what way?” he asks. 

“Onmund wanted to marry me,” I tell him.

“Yeah, it’s a little awkward when certain characters flirt with you. But did you choose someone?”

“Yes. Onmund.”

“You married Onmund?” he asks, surprised. 

“Yeah. I didn’t know what else to do.”

“You could have said no.”

“It’s fine. He’s an alright bloke.”

“I thought you liked women.”

“My character is a woman,” I say.

“You can be gay in Skyrim,” he tells me. 

“Oh,” is all I can think of to say to that. 

“You can go back a save and marry a woman if you want to, Snow.”

I don’t know what’s more gay. Being married to a man or being a lesbian. But it doesn’t matter. It’s just a game. 

But instead of saying that, I say, “I want to be married to him.” 

Immediately after the words come out, I realize it sounds pretty gay. But I don’t want to make it more awkward by backtracking that statement, so I just don’t say anything else and just hope he isn’t really paying attention to this conversation. 

He doesn’t say anything to that and I don’t know if that’s a good or bad thing. At least he isn’t laughing at me.

I start doing one of the main story quests just to distract myself from Baz. 

After about twenty minutes of awkward silence, Baz says, “It’s almost five.”

I pause the game, and we get up and go to the foyer, closing the door behind us.

“So, like yesterday before the minotaur?” I ask. 

“Yes. We’ll plan as we go.”

We wait.

I call the Sword of Mages, and we keep waiting. 

After a few moments, I look at Baz. The bell should have rung by now.

He shrugs. 

I get this awful feeling in my gut. It’s like dread and despair. 

It feels like the feeling I had when I fought The Humdrum last year combined with the feeling of Agatha breaking up with me. 

I look at Baz again and he looks ill. I think he feels it too. 

I’m about to look through the peephole when the doorknob slowly turns.

I bring my sword up, readying to start swinging, but once the doorknob turns all the way and the door slowly opens, there’s nothing there.

We stare at it, and right when I’m about to go shut it, some snow blows in. It swirls around and materializes into a beautiful woman with white hair. She reminds me of Elsa. 

She looks at us, smiles slyly and says, “Vorfreude ist die schönste Freude.”

Her voice is just as beautiful as she is, but it sends chills down my spine.

“Who are you?” Baz asks.

She smiles coldly at him and says, “Ich bin Perchta... Und das ist mein Perchten.”

A gaggle of geese run in through the open door, honking. 

Most of them run past us but one nips at Baz.

“ _Honk! Honk!_ ”

They look like regular geese, but I still have that feeling like this is really bad. 

I think Baz is on the same page because he’s not attacking the geese. He’s just trying to avoid it while watching the woman.

She walks (or more like glides) to the foyer doors, and lifts her hand in that direction. The doors open on their own, and the geese file through.

She walks out of the room, like she’s surveying the house. 

We follow as a few of the geese are still harassing Baz.

“ _Honk!_ ”

When we get to the hallway, she goes left towards the kitchen. 

As we follow, a goose tries to bite Baz, and he kicks it.

She hisses, and grabs him by the shirt and starts dragging him away.

“Let him go!” I yell. 

“Weißt du, was mit ungezogenen Kindern passiert?” she says.

Baz scrambles backwards while trying to pry her hand off of him. 

She must be really strong because she doesn’t seem phased at all.

I don’t really know what to do because she hasn’t actually hurt him yet, but I feel like this isn’t good. 

I feel like we’re going to die. 

Right before they enter the kitchen, Perchta grabs him by the shirt and lifts him up and they kiss.

I’m totally shocked, then I look up and remember the mistletoe. 

When I look back down, she’s changed. She doesn’t look like Elsa anymore. She looks like an older, more hideous version of the witch from Snow White.

Baz looks horrified. Not disgusted. Horrified. 

Seeing the horror on his face fills me with pain. This has to stop. 

I run my sword right through her. 

She cackles and says, “Dumme Sterbliche. Sie mögen Magier sein, aber Sie sind immer noch sterblich. Du kannst mir nichts antun.”

I have no idea what she’s saying but it doesn’t sound like she’s dying.

I pull my sword out and a goose bites my leg. I cut it’s head off, and she drops Baz. 

“Niemand verletzt meine Perchten,” she says, and snaps her fingers. 

The other geese grow to four feet tall and fang like teeth sprout from their bills and their feathers fall off revealing rotting flesh and bones. 

“What kind of bloody Nightmare Before Christmas shit is this?” Baz says.

I quickly plunge my sword into one and the one behind me bites my arm. 

It’s teeth pierce my skin, and I feel blood come out but then it lets go. I look behind me and see that Baz has snapped its neck. 

We hear the sounds of the other three geese run our way. 

The woman pushes Baz out of the way, and I try to slash her with my sword, but she grabs my wrist and tightens her grip. When I think my wrist is about to break I drop the sword. 

She holds my wrist up high. I’m standing on my tiptoes to avoid the strain. I look at her and she’s looking at Baz.

We’re surrounded by monstrous geese.

“Honk! Honk!”

Baz has one by the neck and he’s staring at her. 

He looks at me and looks more sickly than he did when he went all those days without feeding, and says, “I’m sorry.”

Then he snaps the goose's neck.

The woman yanks on my arm, throwing me aside, then there’s blinding pain. This is the most pain I’ve ever been in. I’m screaming but it sounds far away. Like all there is right now is pain. 

I’m vaguely aware of the sound of Baz fighting the last two geese, but I can’t see. Everything is blurry. 

After a moment the pain lets up a bit and I move my arm to grab my sword, but it’s agony and I scream again.

I hear her cackle again, and I look at her. 

She says, “Auf Wiedersehen,” then turns to snow that drops into an inanimate pile.

“Snow, are you okay?” Baz asks.

“Are they dead? Are they gone?”

“Yes, they’re dead and gone. Can you move your arm?” 

I try but then it’s blinding pain and I scream again. 

Tears are definitely falling but I don’t care at all.

Baz takes his wand out and says, “ **_Get well soon!_ **” 

“My shoulder still hurts,” I tell him.

“That was for the bite… You’ve dislocated your shoulder. Before we can spell that better, we have to pop it back into place…”

That doesn’t sound good. 

He pulls me to my feet by the other arm and helps me into the dining room.

“Get on the table,” Baz says. 

I do.

“Wait here,” he says and goes into the kitchen. 

A moment later he comes back with a bottle of peppermint schnapps. 

“Drink this,” he says. 

“I don’t drink,” I tell him.

Baz pokes my shoulder and I say, “Oww oww oww!”

“It’ll be that times a thousand. Are you sure you still don’t drink?”

“Okay. Give it to me.”

He opens the bottle and hands it to me. 

I take a sip and it kinda burns but it’s also sweet and minty. It’s not so bad. So I drink more. 

“I’m not trying to peer pressure you, Snow but keep going.”

I keep drinking. The world gets kinda fuzzy and wobbly. 

I’ve drank half the bottle, I ask, “Is this enough?”

“Hold your arms straight out to your sides, and touch your nose like this,” Baz says, only using his elbows to move his finger to tap his nose. 

I go to do it and when I move my other arm, I yell out from the pain, and Baz says, “Yeah, you’re drunk enough. Okay. Lay down.”

He takes the bottle from me and I lay down on the table. 

“Hold still for this,” he tells me.

He takes my arm and holds it straight out. It makes me whimper, which I know isn’t super manly, but it just hurts and I can’t control it.

He holds my shoulder and my arm below it, rotating it like it’s trying to screw the lid back on a jar of pickles. 

I use my other hand to cover my face.

After a few minutes of this it audibly pops back into place and I moan because the relief feels so good. I thought it would hurt, but it feels so much better. 

I go limp on the table, just feeling really good.

“Alright, Snow?” Baz asks, tentatively. 

“Amazing,” I say. 

Then I say, “Get on the table with me. It’s _really_ comfortable.”

“Somehow I doubt that.”

“Just trust me,” I say. 

He walks around to the other side and climbs up and lays next to me. 

“It feels like a table,” he says. 

“Oh. Maybe you need some of this,” I say and hand him the schnapps bottle. 

“If I’m drunk, there’ll be no one to supervise you.”

“ _Please_. I don’t wanna be drunk alone.”

“Fine. We’re half way through the twelve days. It’s only going to get harder from here. If there’s a time to drink, it’s now. But if you break something, you owe me,” he says. 

“You can have whatever you want.”

He sits up and starts drinking, then says, “I have an idea,” and gets off the table and disappears.

After a few minutes, he comes back with two Christmas mugs of hot chocolate. I sit up and he sets them on the table and gets back up on the table, facing me. He pours the peppermint schnapps into the mugs. 

I take one and it is delicious. It’s minty hot chocolate. 

Baz chugs what’s left of the schnapps bottle like it’s easy, then starts sipping the hot chocolate. 

Then I notice. “Baz, you have a black eye.”

“Hmm. Must have happened during the fight.”

“Let me spell it better for you,” I say and get out my wand.  
  
“No, no, no! No casting magic on me while drunk,” he says. 

“Good idea. Does your mum have makeup we can use to cover it up?”

I hate seeing him injured. 

“My aunt might,” he says. 

“Let’s go! Let’s go!” I say, feeling really excited about this. 

“Alright,” Baz says, and gets up, leaving his unfinished hot chocolate on the table. 

I follow him upstairs to Fiona’s room.

He goes into the bathroom in her room and turns on the light. It’s kinda a mess. There’s makeup products littering the countertop. 

Baz sits in a chair with a round mirror in front of it on the counter, even though there’s a mirror on the wall. 

He gets a tear drop shaped sponge thing wet, as I look through the stuff. 

I pick up a black tube and unscrew it. One half has a stick with little spiky black things. 

“What is this?” I ask. 

Baz looks over and says, “That’s masquera. It goes on your eyelashes.”

I lean in towards the mirror and try to dab my eye lashes with it.

“No, no. That’s not how you do it. Do you want me to do your makeup?” he asks. 

“Yeah. Make me pretty.”

Baz snorts. I’ve never heard him do that and it makes me laugh. 

“Sit in the chair, “ he says, and gets up. 

I sit, then he says, “close your eyes,” and I do. 

Then he starts dabbing my face with the sponge thing. After a while of that, he gets out a big poofy brush and starts brushing my face with some sort of powder. 

When he’s done with that, he gets a smaller brush and starts putting something on my eyelids. 

Then, he says “hold still,” and I feel something wet being painted across the bottom on my eyelids where my eyelashes are. 

Then he says, “Open your eyes and look up. This is going to feel weird.”

I do it and it does feel weird. My enemy is shoving a stick thing in my eye and it’s hard not to move, but I don’t wanna fuck up what he’s doing so I stay still. 

Then he gets out the thing I know is mascara and says, “Open your eyes, but look down.”

I do, and he starts brushing it over my eyelashes. 

Then he starts opening up tubes of lipstick trying to pick a color. I thought they only came in reds and pinks but some of these are black and dark purple. 

He picks one called Dragonfruit and it looks sorta magenta-violet. 

He’s probably making me look like a clown. 

He runs the lipstick over my lips, then says, “Look in the mirror.”

“Whoa.”

I look like I should be on the cover of a magazine or something. This is better than Agatha’s makeup. 

My eyeshadow is this shiny lavender color that goes well with the lipstick. And my eyelashes look thick and long. I didn’t know makeup could do that. 

“Do you like it?” Baz asks.

“I love it. Now do yours. I want you pretty too!”

“I’m not already pretty?”

“You are, but you know what I mean.”

Baz snorts again and it makes me giggle. 

He starts doing his makeup. He does the same process he did with me, but instead he uses a dark purple eyeshadow and doesn’t put it as high on his eyelids as he did with mine, and he uses a very red lipstick. He also puts on very rosy blush.

“How do I look?” he asks when he’s done.

“Stunning,” I say. 

We both giggle. 

“What else does your aunt have?” I ask, looking around.

“We probably shouldn’t dig through her stuff more than we have,” he says, sounding disappointed. 

“Then can we watch frozen again?” I ask. 

“Yes. Meet me in my room in 5 minutes.”

I go to get the laptop out of the guest room and he disappears. 

I take it to Baz’s room and get in his bed and wait. 

Eventually he shows up with a tray. There’s two plates of roast beef and a can of Tizer and Vimto. He gets in bed next to me, and when he bumps my shoulder, he says, “Sorry. Does that hurt?”

“No. It feels fine actually.”

Then he sits so close to me he’s pretty much leaning on me. 

I wish alcohol wasn’t bad for you, because I love drunk Baz. I wish he was like this more. 

We start eating as the movie plays, but when the song _Do You Want to Build a Snowman_ comes on, he starts singing!

His voice is lovely. The jammy bastard is so good at everything he does. 

“Simon, sing it with me,” he says.

So I do. 

Normally I’d be too embarrassed to sing in front of him, but right now I feel really good.

At least he’s not making fun of my singing. 

We sing loud throughout the whole movie.

When it’s over, he looks at me, and we’re so close, I can smell the Vimto on his breath. 

It makes my heart feel fluttery and I don’t know what to do, so I say, “Thanks for fixing my shoulder. Goodnight.”

He turns his head and lets out a barely audible sigh and says, “Goodnight.”

I take the laptop with me to the couch, and put it underneath, then pull the blankets over me and get comfortable.

Baz turns off the lights, and we both go to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact.  
> "Vorfreude ist die schönste Freude," is a real German Christmas idiom.  
> It basically means, "anticipation is half the pleasure."


	8. The Seventh Day of Christmas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On the seventh day of Christmas The Humdrum gave to me: seven swans a swimming, six geese a laying, five golden rings, four Colly birds, three French hens, two turtle doves, and a partridge in a peartree.

**Thursday, December 19th**

Baz and I wake up at the same time. We both sit up and look at each other. 

My head and neck are killing me. 

“Why do you look like Snow White?” I ask.

Baz closes his eyes like he’s trying really hard to forget something, then asks, “What day is it?” 

“I think it’s Thursday.”

“Okay. Seven swans a swimming.”

I lift the blanket off of me, and then put it back on.

“Baz. What happened last night?” 

“Do you remember anything?”

“I remember drinking and watching Frozen.”

“Well, before Frozen, you wanted your makeup done,” he says.

“That sounds vaguely familiar,” I admit.

“Then after we went to sleep, you got up and said you couldn’t sleep.”

“Then what?” I ask. 

“Why does it matter?”

“I just wanted to know why I’m wearing jean short shorts and fishnets instead of those Christmas light joggers.”

Baz faceplams.

“What happened last night?” I ask. 

Baz sighs and says, “You wanted to try on some of my aunts clothes. I said no, but you insisted.”

“This was my idea?”

“One hundred percent. And to think you were throwing a snit about sweaters two days ago.”

I don’t know what to do. If I get up, Baz will see what I’m wearing. Even though he’s already seen it, it’s still embarrassing.

I think Baz knows what I’m thinking because he says, “Stay there,” and goes into his closet. He comes out with a stack of neatly folded clothes, and puts them in the bathroom.

“I’m going to get breakfast ready. Take a shower. There’s some aspirin in a drawer somewhere in there.”

He leaves and I get up, go into the bathroom and lock the door. 

There’s a full length mirror on the door.

I look ridiculous. 

And I hate that there’s a small, itty bitty, teeny tiny, miniscule part of me that kind of likes it. 

I’m also wearing a Ramones T-shirt that completes the ensemble. 

I check what clothes Baz left me.

It’s my flannel joggers and Harry Potter T-shirt! I missed these. 

Also, smooth black boxer briefs… I read that tag and it says 91% nylon and 9% spandex. 

Oh, Merlin. What am I wearing right now?

I take off the shorts and under them I have on red boyshorts... 

I try really hard not to think about whether or not Baz knows about the boyshorts and I get undressed and get in his shower. 

I use all his fancy shampoo and conditioner and use water to wipe the makeup off my face. 

When I get out and look in the mirror, I look like a sad racoon. The water didn’t wash off the eyeliner or mascara. It’s just a mess around my eyes. I look like a girl who’s been crying. 

I try using water from the sink to scrub it off but it just makes it worse. Is this bloody spelled on? How do people remove this?

I towel off and put on my clothes. 

I take Fiona’s clothes back to her room because if Baz doesn’t already know about the boyshorts, I don’t want him to find out. 

When I get there, I see clothes all over the floor.

How much did I try on?

Oh god, did I put on that bra? 

I pick up everything and put it in the hamper. And everything includes a crop top and a skirt, among other things. 

Why are there also heels laying around? 

As I’m leaving I see the Elf on a Shelf on her bookshelf. Was it fucking watching me last night? Judging me? 

I push it off the shelf and leave.

I go downstairs and Baz is in the dining room with tea and there’s a plate for me with sausage, toast and fried eggs. 

“Crowley, Snow. I know it’s not scones, but you don’t have to cry about it,” he says. 

“Fuck off. This stuff is impossible to remove.”

“Don’t get your tinsel in a tangle. There’s makeup removing wipes in her bathroom.”

I turn to go, then he says, “Eat your breakfast first. Before it gets cold.”

Seeing me like this is nothing compared to what he must have seen last night, so I do sit. 

He pours me some Christmas tea while I put a fried egg on a piece of toast and eat it with my hands.

“Did you find the aspirin?” he asks. 

“No.” 

With all the panic, I forgot about this pounding headache. But now that he’s brought it up, I can’t not think about it. 

He slides me a dish with two pills in it.

“Thank you,” I say, and swallow them with tea. 

“So, what’s the plan today? How do we stop that witch or whatever she was from dislocating something again, and what are we going to do about the swans.”

“I am going to try to learn German to talk to her. Or at least try to figure out what she says.”

“You’re going to learn German in a day?” I ask. 

“I’m going to learn what I can. It will be limited. But luckily we have language tutorial books for about twenty different languages and German is one of them.”

When I finish breakfast, I do get the makeup off of my face. 

Then I spend most of the day in the library with Baz. 

We have to stop once an hour to kill things then clean the bodies, but it goes smoothly. 

The tree did throw it’s pot through the window, but Baz spelled the window back together. 

They perytons went without incident. Baz didn’t have to use that antler dagger I made him. But afterwards he did have the shadow of a rabbit that hopped when he walked. 

Our collection of cockatrice statues grew, and Baz proved once again he’s a complete badass, slaughtering the Strix in record time. I think it only took him six minutes this time. 

We didn’t bother questioning the minotaur. We just shot him with the ballista when he walked in. This one had two golden rings on each ear and on through his septum. 

But most of the day was spent with me listening to Baz say, “Woher kommst du?” which is “Where are you from?” and “Was ist danach?” which is “What’s next?” (With occasional howling coming from outside, putting us on edge.)

He says the translations won’t be perfect, but we might be able to piece something together. 

Luckily my headache went away earlier, but my neck is still sore. I keep rubbing it. 

“Is something wrong with your neck?” Baz eventually asks me. 

“It’s just from sleeping on the couch. It’s fine.”

He hesitates then says, “My bed is more than big enough for both of us. There’s plenty of space.”

“No, it’s fine,” I say. 

For some reason, the idea of sharing a bed with Baz makes me nervous even though we’ve been sleeping right next to each other for years. 

“So. Should we try to kill the geese as soon as possible this time, or wait as long as possible?” I ask.

“Wait. But if she takes me anywhere near the mistletoe, kill anything to stop it. Including me.”

“I’m not going to kill you just to save you from having to kiss her.” 

“Please, Snow. I’d rather die.” 

“At least she was pretty when the kiss started,” I say. 

“She’s not my type... It’s almost time. Let’s shut all the doors in the house to limit where the geese can go.”

We get up and shut every door in the house. It takes a while because there’s a lot of doors. When we’re done, we have about five minutes to spare.

We stand in the middle of the foyer and I ask, “Should we lock the door?”

“I don’t want to be locked in here with her.”

When it’s time, the bell doesn’t ring. But that sense of dread creeps over me again. 

“Baz, do you feel that?” I ask to make sure it’s not just me.

“Yes.”

“Do you know of any creatures that cause that?” I ask.

“Dementors.” 

“Like from Harry Potter?”

“Yes.”

“Are they real?”

“No.” 

I sigh then shiver. 

It is like all the joy got sucked out of the room. It feels like I’ll never be happy again. 

It might be worse than the feeling of the presence of The Humdrum.

After what feels like an eternity, but was probably closer to three minutes, the door opens. And like last time, there’s no one there. 

Part of me wants to just shut the door, and not let her in. But I know that creature out there wouldn’t be happy about that. 

Sure enough, snow blows in and the woman materializes in her beautiful foarm. 

“Grüße, schöner Toter. Du hast Krampus eifersüchtig gemacht,” she says, looking at Baz.

I look at Baz to see if he knows what that meant, but he just looks confused.

“Was bist du?” Baz asks. It’s one of the questions he was practicing. It means, “What are you?”

She smiles like she did last time and says, “Ich bin Perchta... Und das ist mein Perchten.”

The six geese flood in.

“ _Honk! Honk!_ ”

Some of them wander aimlessly. Some try to harass me. I know better than to kick it now. 

“Woher kommst du?” Baz asks. 

She looks like she’s lost interest in him and walks to the foyer door. 

“Ich wohne irgendwo weit weg von hier,” she says, as she opens the foyer door with the slow turn of her wrist like a Jedi. 

“Woher kommst du?” Baz asks again. I think either she didn’t answer the first time or he didn’t understand the answer.

She walks into the hallway, looks around, then raises a hand. _All_ the doors open. I can hear them opening across the house. 

She walks around the ballista into the library and her geese go right. 

“Watch the geese,” Baz says. “I’m going to keep talking to her.” 

“Right,” I say and follow them.

As I walk down the hall, I see a push broom in an open closet. I grab it. Maybe I can use it to corral them.

I keep following them as they honk and run upstairs. 

When they get up to where Baz’s room is, they take a right and go up more stairs. I haven’t been up here before. 

They go in a room, and when I go in, I realize it must be Baz’s little sister’s room. 

The geese start attacking her stuffed animals and I try to shoo them away with the broom but there’s so many.

While I’m doing that, other geese are at a bookshelf pulling books off it.

“ _Honk! Honk!_ ”

“Stop! Stop!” I yell at them even though they don’t know English. Probably. 

One flutters up onto the bed and starts attacking an expensive looking doll. 

I try to shoo it off but this isn’t working. 

“Get out! Get out!” I yell. 

They keep knocking things over, and there’s nothing I can do to stop them. 

I feel my magic welling up and then I see a glass figurine of a unicorn and it gets knocked over and breaks. 

“ **_Get out!_ **” I shout.

I didn’t mean to say that with magic, but it worked, and now they’re all quickly waddling back down the stairs.

The fact that they aren’t turning into horrifying monster geese is probably a good sign that Baz is doing alright, but knowing that doesn’t bring any comfort. That lady’s presence just makes me feel doomed no matter what.

They go all the way back downstairs and, fuck me, they’re going into the TV room. 

When I get there, one has the Xbox controller in it’s mouth and I shove the broom in its face.

“Drop it! Drop it!”

“ _Honk!_ ”

One bites the bottom of the broom and starts trying to pull it away from me. I pull back, but it doesn’t give up. Eventually it pulls the head of the broom right off.

“You little shit!” 

I see one go for the mug I fixed! It’s nearly impossible to fix a twice broken thing, so I instinctively hit it with the broom handle. 

I feel the room get colder and the geese start growing and losing their feathers.

I quickly drop the broom handle, and call the Sword of Mages. 

Before they’re done transforming, I plunge it into one, and use the motion of pulling the sword out to decapitate another on a backswing. 

I swing it forward and kill another on my right. 

They’ve finished their change and now there’s three monstrous geese looming over me.

I just hope Baz is okay right now. 

One of the geese lunges to bite me, and I shove my sword into its face. 

One on my left bites my leg, and it hurts bad enough to cause me to fall over. But I swing my sword, taking its head off too as I fall.

When I’m on the ground, the last goose flaps its boney wings then uses its talons to scratch my chin and chest. 

I shove my sword in its belly, and it falls over on top of me. 

It smells horrible. 

I shove it off and try to get up, but my leg hurts too badly. 

It’s not as bad as my shoulder yesterday, but I realize it’s bleeding kinda badly and a small pool of blood is forming. 

I have to check if Baz is okay though. 

Right when I’m about to try to get up again, Baz runs into the room looking panicked.

He kicks some dead geese out of the way, then falls to his knees in front of me. 

He casts, “ **_Get well soon!_ **” on my chest, then quickly asks, “Where else are you hurt?” looking me over. 

It’s hard to tell where the blood is coming from because the joggers are black and red, so I tell him, “One bit my calf.”

He points his wand at it and says, “ **_Get well soon!_ **” 

I rub a hand over the spot. 

“Is it better?” he asks, still sounding frantic. 

“Yeah. Thank you.”

He seems to calm down a little, then says, “I thought she said you died. She left so soon after she got angry.”

“I just got lucky and was able to kill them quickly. Did you learn anything?” I ask. 

“Not really. I couldn’t understand most of what she said. And the few words I did recognize didn’t make sense.”

“Like what?”

“Well. She kept saying something about Vögel. Which means birds. But she could have been talking about the seven swans, or her six geese. And she kept saying something like ‘Attraktiv für einen Toten.’ I think that means something like, ‘Attractive for a kill.’ And that’s not helpful. But, her name is definitely Perchta. And she seems to believe she was sent by Krampus, which doesn’t make sense because he’s not real.”

“You thought that serpent cat thing wasn’t real,” I say. 

“That was different.” 

“How?” 

“The Tatzelwurm are mythical. But also elusive. Krampus is infamously mythical. If he were real, people would know. Him being real would be like Father Christmas being real.”

“Maybe Father Christmas is real,” I say.

“Don’t be daft.”

“A lot of what has happened this last week has been unexplainable. We don’t know what that creature is outside. We don’t know why we don’t feel The Humdrum indoors. We don’t know why there’s conveniently a blizzard. The Humdrum has never controlled the weather before. The Humdrum has never sent an attack this long and coordinated before. Usually it’s one and done. The Tatzelwurm shadow is unexplainable. I just think we shouldn’t rule anything out just because it’s unheard of.”

“If it is Krampus, then I suppose we’ve both been incredibly naughty this year,” Baz says, mocking me. 

“Or, The Humdrum sent him.”

Baz doesn’t say anything. 

He stands up then gives me a hand and helps me up. 

He quickly walks into the library then starts flipping through books already on the table. 

After a few minutes of that, he puts the book down, and says, “I think the Humdrum sent Krampus after us.”

“I wasn’t serious when I said that. I was just spitballing.” 

“But think about it. We don’t sense The Humdrum when our hourlys come. We only feel it when we go outside where that beast is. And why would all these creatures attack us if The Humdrum didn’t send them?”

“I have no idea.”

“The only creature that would make an elaborate Christmas themed attack is Krampus. So, The Humdrum sent Krampus and Krampus is sending the rest of the creatures,” he explains. 

“So, Krampus is real?” I ask.

“Yes.”

“So, Father Christmas is real?”

“No.”

“Why?”

“I think people would notice Christmas presents mysteriously appearing on Christmas morning, Snow.” 

“Maybe that’s not how he works,” I say. 

Baz sighs and says, “That doesn’t matter. Even if he were real, which he’s not, that doesn’t help us.”

“Alright, alright. So, now that we know what that thing is, maybe we can figure out what the rest of the days are going to be?” I ask. 

“That’s what I was thinking,” Baz says. 

“Then let’s get to it.”

Baz takes out his wand and says,” **_Fine-tooth comb—Krampus!_ **”

Some books fly off the shelves into his arms. 

He hands me half of them, then we both take our stacks to a chair and start reading. 

As I read the books, all I find out is that he punishes naughty children, people put him on greeting cards and have parades for him. Why would they do that if he’s so evil? 

I don’t find anything relating to the Twelve Days of Christmas.

“Any luck?” I ask Baz. 

“Nope.”

“We have fifteen minutes before the seven swans a swimming. Is there anything to eat?”

“Fruitcake.”

Maybe I should surrender myself to Krampus. 

“I made sandwiches this morning while you were in the shower,” he says. “I’ll go get them.”

He comes back a few minutes later with some ham and cheese sandwiches. I eat mine in about a minute, then while Baz is half way done with his, I ask, “Are you going to finish that?”

“Yes,” he says, sounding offended and with a lisp from his fangs. 

But then he just takes a few more bites and hands me the rest, and I practically swallow it whole. 

“Five minutes,” he says, and we go into the foyer and close the doors behind us. 

I call my sword and ready myself. 

When Deck the Halls rings, instead of one of us opening it and risking getting knocked over, Baz casts, “ **_Open sesame!_ **” 

White harpies start swarming in. So many. 

They immediately start screeching. 

It’s so deafening, I drop my sword to cover my ears. 

Baz casts, “ **_Silent night! Holy night!_ **” and everything has gone quiet. There’s no noise. It’s like I actually went deaf. 

I quickly pick my sword back up, and swing at harpies that swoop down to try to grab me.

One grabs Baz and soundlessly throws him into the foyer doors, breaking them open. 

I run to the ballista, and quickly aim it at one and fire.

It shoots a harpy right through the chandelier. (Fucking hell. The chandelier was probably worth a small fortune.) 

Baz pulls me away from the ballista right as a harpy was about to swoop down to get me. 

We retreat into the library and the harpies follow.

All I can do is swing my sword wildly in the air to stop them from picking me up. 

I look over at Baz, and with lightning speed, he runs up a chair then up a wall then jumps off the wall onto a harpy and sinks his dagger into its neck.

They both fall to the ground and Baz sticks the landing. 

I didn’t know he knew parkour. 

One flies at me low enough that when I swing my sword up and it clips its wing, and it comes crashing down. 

I run to it and plunge my sword into its chest before it can get up again. 

I feel searing pain in my shoulders and after a moment I realize I’m in the air. 

I look up and two harpies have dug their talons into my shoulders and pulled me up. 

I go to swing my sword, but I realized I must have dropped it when they picked me up.

Everything is so disorienting without sound. 

I look around wildly, trying to figure out a way to get down. I see Baz, and he throws a knife over me.

It whizzes above me and goes into one of the harpies holding me. Some blood trickles onto me before it falls, leaving the other harping spiraling down, struggling to hold my weight on its own.

It drops me near where my sword is, and I roll to get it. 

Two harpies close in on me. 

They both move to grab me, so I slash one with my sword, and the other just falls down in front of me. 

Standing behind it is Baz smiling. 

I look down and see the peryton antler I carved for him buried in the base of the harpy’s skull. 

A harpy comes up behind Baz and I shout, “Behind you!” 

But no sound comes out.

The harpy grabs Baz from behind then sinks its teeth into his neck.

Baz winces in pain, then reaches behind him and snaps its neck.

“Is that all of them?” I yell silently, looking around. 

Baz looks around and starts looking at the bodies. He peers into the foyer, looking up at the one pinned high up on the wall from the ballista bolt, then gives me a thumbs up.

I guess that means we got them all. 

I sit on the couch and wince when the talon punctures hit the cushions.

Baz comes up to me and says something, pointing his wand at me, then the pain stops. He must have cast **get well soon** because I feel the warmth radiating through me.

If that worked, I think that means that we just can’t hear but sound is still happening. 

I get out my wand to do the same for Baz, but he pushes my wand down and wags a finger. 

He must not want to risk me casting magic on him still, which is fair enough. 

I risk it and cast, “ **_See what I mean!_ **” 

It works and I write, “ _How long will the silence last?_ ” in the air with my finger.

He writes, “ _Unsure. It could be all night._ ”

I write, “ _We should clean your wounds. Go upstairs, take a shower, pour hydrogen peroxide on the wounds, and come out in your trousers and I’ll bandage you up._ ”

He writes, “ _I’m a vampire. It’s probably unnecessary._ ” 

I write, “ _If you think me dying on your property would look bad, imagine how it would look if you died while I was here. Just do it._ ”

Baz rolls his eyes then goes upstairs and I follow. 

I sit on the couch and wait for him while he showers. 

When he comes out, he’s only wearing his yoga pants. The ones that are like a second skin and show off every perfect muscle in his legs. The ones he should model. 

My mind blanks out until Baz waves a hand over my face. 

He hands me the box of bandages and I put them over all the punctures on his shoulders. 

I also realize there’s a bruise on his side, probably from where he hit the foyer doors. 

He sits on the couch next to me, leans back and closes his eyes. 

I’m not really sure what to do. I feel like I shouldn’t just stare at him, but if I look away, I won’t see if he does something he wants me to see.

He runs a hand through his slicked back hair. I can’t wait for it to dry so it’ll fall over his eyes and cheeks. It always looks better like that. 

He opens his eyes and gives me a look like he wants to say something and can’t. 

I don’t understand though. If he wanted to, he could just cast the spell and write it. But he doesn’t. 

I rub my sore neck, wondering what it is. 

He gets up, takes the pillow from my couch and puts it on his bed. Then he points at me and points at the bed. 

I shake my head then take the pillow back to the couch.

He shrugs then walks over to the light switch and looks at me. 

I guess he wants to go to sleep now since we can’t talk. 

I get on the couch and put the blanket over me, then he turns off the light. 

It’s hard to go to sleep without any sound. (And this early. But what else is there to do if we can hear?)

But after long enough in the dark, I eventually drift off.


	9. The Eighth Day of Christmas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On the eighth day of Christmas Krampus gave to me: eight maids a milking, seven swans a swimming, six geese a laying, five golden rings, four Colly birds, three French hens, two turtle doves, and a partridge in a peartree.

**Friday, December 20th**

  
  
I wake up and there’s something on my face. 

I take it off and it’s a piece of paper taped to me.

Baz left me a note. 

It says, “ _There’s a change of clothes for you in the bathroom. Take a shower._ ”

I wonder if he’s this bossy with everyone or just me. When Dev or Neil stay the night, does he tape notes to their faces?

I go into the bathroom and on the counter there’s a fresh pair of red and black flannel joggers and a balck T-shirt that has Christmas sweater print and says, “Happy Christmas you filthy muggles” on it, just like what I’m wearing now. 

How many pairs of these does he have? 

It’s better than the blinking Christmas lights sweater, so I’m not complaining.

I take my clothes off. The shirt was shredded and the joggers are hard in places blood soaked in then dried. They’re ruined so I put them in the trash.

I take a quick shower, put on the fresh clothes and head downstairs. 

I find Baz waiting for me in the dining room.

He pours me Christmas tea when I walk in. 

I sit down and see he’s made… Eggs in ham cups? 

“What are these?” I ask. 

“Egg and ham cups,” he says. 

“That’s what they’re called? They don’t have some fancy French name?”

“That’s what they’re called… Would you prefer something that does have a fancy French name?” he asks. 

“No,” I say and try a bite. 

It’s so good. It’s eggs _and_ ham. And I don’t even need silverware to eat it.

“How do you get the ham to be cup shaped? Do you have to magic it?” I ask. 

“No. You just put the ham in a cupcake pan.”

“Will you show me how to make them?” I ask. 

“No.”

“Will you show me how to make the Christmas scones?”

“No.”

“Please. If you show me how to make something, you won’t have to make stuff for me everyday.” 

He has this look like he’s going to give me a lengthy reason why not and insult me at the same time, so I say, “If you teach me how to cook, I’ll teach you how to use your dagger.”

“What’s wrong with how I use my dagger? I’ve killed countless creatures with it,” he says. 

“Well, you’re great at throwing it. And you can kill creatures that are basically blind while you fight them. But up close, with creatures that can see, some training wouldn’t hurt.”

“You don’t even use a dagger,” he says. 

“Some sword skills translate and I know more about combat than just using a sword.”

“Alright. Fine. If we survive the eight maids a milking, I’ll teach you how to make something tonight.”

“Yes!” I exclaim, excitedly. 

I take a few more bites of my egg and ham cups then say, “Wait. How will you teach me if we can’t hear?”

“I think I’ve figured out a solution to that,” he says. “After I cast **silent night** , I can cast **Christmas bells are ringing, joyous voices sweet and clear** and we should be able to hear again. I just need to ring a Christmas bell, and luckily we have some.”

“Okay. We should start as soon as possible,” I say, shoving the last of the ham and egg cups in my mouth and washing it down with tea. 

Baz slowly sips his tea.  
  
I put my elbows on the table and wait for him.

Baz begins to slurp loudly.  
  
I think that was a mistake because now me waiting for him is a game to him.

He drinks his tea as slowly as he can to test my patience. 

“If you do this and one of us dies because you weren’t prepared, remember it was all so you could annoy me,” I say.

“Worth.”

“Fuck off.”

Baz finishes his tea, and I go get a long sword out of the coat closet in the foyer. It’s not as sharp as the Sword of Mages.

I meet him in the library. 

“Okay. What first?” he asks.

“Show me how you hold your dagger,” I tell him.

He holds it out like a kitchen knife. 

“That grip isn’t the best for defense. Try holding it like you’re going to stab someone.”

He adjusts his grip.

“Can you hand me the antler dagger so I can show you?” I ask.

He does. 

I hold it the way I told him to and explain, “Holding the blade like this makes it harder to see. Your opponent might not realize you have it until they’re too close to you. You can still stab.”

With the pommel going forward, waving through the air in figure eight motions, I slash through the air, then mid slash I tilt my wrist inward, pointing the blade out and make a stabbing motion, showing him he can slash and stab this way. 

He attempts it a few times and his form looks perfect. He’s such a fast learner. I’m afraid I’ll make him unstoppable and it’ll be the death of me.

_Deck the Halls_ rings, so we go to the foyer. 

“This tree is more annoying than a threat,” I complain.

“Snow. _It’s an ent._ And if it’s not a threat, then I won’t have to spell your bollocks better next time.” Baz reminds me.

“Fuck off.”

He opens the door and the looming pear-tree runs at us, but Baz sets it on fire and casts it back into the blizzard with, “ **_Sod off!_ **”

I “ **_Dead in the air!_ **” the bird and it lands on the porch.

Baz spells that back into the blizzard too, and we go back into the library and I start where we left off. 

“So,” I say. “You can use the whole dagger. Not just the blade. It’s not just used for stabbing and slashing. The pommel can be used to bludgeon someone when they don’t expect it.”

“Why do you know this?”

“I’ve been bludgeoned with a dagger,” I say. 

“If you’re still alive then clearly they weren’t very good,” Baz says. 

“You know I’m hard to kill.”

Baz rolls his eyes for the millionth time this holiday and says, “Can you demonstrate?” 

“Okay. Really slowly _pretend_ like you’re going to stab me.”

Baz slowly brings the dagger towards my shoulder and I thrust my arm to the outside of his arm and use the flat of my blade on the inside side of his arm to hook it. Then with his arm hooked, I move it around to show my control over it, then I thrust the pommel towards his face, but don’t actually hit him. 

“With enough force,” I explain, “you could potentially knock someone out like that or at least daze them. Or. Alternatively. With that same motion, you can cut their throat.” 

“Why would I even hit them in the face if I can cut their throat?” Baz asks. 

“It’s just an option.”

“Either way, this is surprisingly helpful.”

Throughout the day we spar and try new techniques, while getting interrupted every hour. 

Baz actually got to use his antler dagger on the peryton. I would have been able to kill it, but Baz wanted to show off. And after that he got a shadow of either a child, and elf or fairy. 

Baz says Elves don’t exist and fairies are extinct, so it’s definitely a child. Either way it’s disturbing. 

We get back to sparing and Baz accidently cuts my arm. Not badly. 

Baz knits his eyebrows, looking worried and says, “Sorry. That wasn’t intentional. **_Get well soon!_ **” 

“It’s fine. It’s your first day. Mistakes are to be expected. I just wish we had armor.”

“Well, we have those suits of armor,” Baz says. 

“But they don’t fit, and they weigh you down and make you slow,” I say.

“For one, I can make them fit. For two, armor slowing you down is a myth. You can do anything with a fitted suit of armor.”

“What are we waiting for then? Let’s suit up!” I say excitedly. 

We go into the coat closet and I pick out one. 

Baz **one size fits alls** it then helps me put it on. There’s all kinds of straps everywhere, but once it’s on, I feel surprisingly mobile. 

I go out to the foyer and practice with my sword. It doesn’t hinder me at all. 

I run into the library to look at the mirror. 

I look awesome. The armor is silver with vines and flowers embossed on it. It looks like the armor Ser Loras has in Game of Thrones. I’m like the knight of the flowers. 

I feel a little silly with basically pajamas underneath, but that’s fine.

Baz walks in with a pile of armor he got from the artifacts room. 

“Help me with these,” he says. 

He hands me pieces of a black with silver designs. On the pauldrons (shoulder pieces) there’s angry looking gargoyles. (What’s up with the Pitch’s and gargoyles?) 

I strap him in piece by piece like he did with me. I tighten the grieves around his thigh too tightly and he hisses.

“Sorry,” I say, and loosen it. 

Baz then puts on a weapons belt and has a weird sword. 

“What is that?” I ask. 

“It's a khopesh,” he says, pulling it out and showing it to me.

It looks like a sword meant to peel huge apples. It’s curved kind of like a scimitar. 

“That’s bloody awesome,” I tell him. 

Then we go back to sparing. We don’t have to be as careful anymore, so it goes a lot faster. 

We take a break when the cockatrice ring the bells. 

When it’s almost time for the Strix, we do our routine of standing in the dark. 

Instantly Baz starts to panic like he has been. I can’t see him but I can hear his unsteady labored breathing. 

I don’t understand why the Strix worry him so much. He deals with them so effortlessly. 

I just remind him to do his yoga breathing and after a few minutes he calms down.

When the Strix get here and the lights go out, they start screaming. 

Baz isn’t as silent with the armor on, but it’s still quiet enough they don’t seem to be able to fight back. 

They’re all dead in ten minutes. 

After Baz **ashes to ashes, dust to dusts** them and sweeps them out, he makes more tea. 

It looks a bit mad. Two enemies, fully armor clad, sitting in a library casually drinking tea with Feliz Navidad playing in the background. (They have a record player and some Christmas albums.) 

The Elf on a Shelf is on a bookshelf behind me, judging me, and I’m pretending not to notice it. 

Every time I think this holiday can’t get any weirder, it does. 

“How many bolts do we have left for the ballista?” I ask.

The ones we used on the second minotaur and harpy were salvageable. But the minotaur from yesterday just got blasted back into the blizzard. 

“Five. Should be fine. If not, I can make more,” he says. 

“You can make more?” I ask. 

“Well, I can duplicate them with **the more the merrier.** They don’t teach that in school because it’s frowned upon and occasionally illegal because it could ruin the economy. But desperate times call for desperate measures. How do you think I’ve been giving you your outfit so many times? I don’t know how the washing machine here works. It’s not like the ones at Watford.”

“So, instead of learning how to use a washing machine, you’ve duplicated all our favorite clothes?”

“Yes. The instructions for the washing machine are in Japanese. I don’t speak Japanese.”

“How much do you think the creatures know?” I ask, just now thinking of it. 

“What do you mean?”

“Well. Do the trees know what happened to all the other trees when they get here?”

“They’re ents and I don’t think they’re smart enough to know or care.”

“Well. What about the Strix, Minotaur and Perchta. They all speak,” I say. 

“I did hear a Strix mention Perchta once. So, I think they know about each other to a degree. But I have no idea if the Strix that just died knew sixteen died before them. They definitely didn’t know how, or they’d suspect the lights going out by now. Also, with the windows covered, they probably don’t realize how we’re dealing with the cockatrice now.”

“Do you think the minotaurs knew each other?”

“I have no idea. Does it matter?” He asks. 

“You told me not to kill the dragon that attacked Watford. You said it didn’t want to be there. Why are these different?”

“Because The Humdrum didn’t send them. Krampus did. They must have some sort of deal with him and that’s their problem,” he says. 

“I really hope today is one lady milking eight things.”

“What?” Baz asks, confused.

“Well. Five golden rings is just one bloke, not five. So, maybe instead of eight maids milking one thing, it’ll be one maid milking.”

“Crowley, I really hope nothing actually gets milked tonight.”

“Same. Want to practice your dagger play again?” I ask.

If it weren’t for my magic fueling me or Baz’s vampiric energy, I think we’d both be dead of exhaustion by now. But I think we’re doing okay right now. 

“One more session. After the minotaur, we eat, drink and be merry, then we fight or die.”

We spar and Baz gets good enough that I have to wonder if he’s better at this now than he is with fire. It took me years to get good with a sword and he’s already good with his dagger after one day. 

When the minotaur rings the bell, we shoot him with the ballista as soon as the door opens, sending him flying into the blizzard. 

When Baz closes the door, I say, “Maybe we shouldn’t have been shooting them out the door. If Krampus is out there, he’s probably caught on by now.”

Baz sighs and says, “That would have been helpful insight three minutes ago.”

“Sorry,” I say, and rub my neck. 

“Is your neck still bothering you?” he asks. 

“Yeah, but it’s fine.”

“Is it because of the couch?” he asks. 

“Yeah, but I can still move my head. It’s not a big deal.”

“It’s just going to get worse,” he says, and walks off to the kitchen.

I follow. 

When we enter, I immediately smell something delicious. There’s a big pot on the stove.

Baz gets out these two huge bread rolls that are hollowed out and, with a ladle, starts pouring what’s in the pot into the bread.

“What is that?” I ask.

“Potato soup in bread bowls. I’ve been letting the soup simmer all day,” he says.

“You can make bowls out of bread?” I ask. 

“Yes, but I don’t recommend it for things that aren’t soup.”

“Why? I bet it’d work with Corn Flakes.”

Baz hands me two plates, each with a bread bowl on it and says, “Go wait in the fucking dining room.”

“Yes, sir,” I say, trying to mock his bossiness. But when it comes out it just sounded awkward and he gives me a weird look, so I quickly take the food into the dining room.

I sit and wait, and he comes in with two wine glasses and a bottle of wine.

“I don’t think now is the best time to get drunk,” I say. 

“Just a glass. We won’t get drunk. It’ll be fine.”

He pours me a glass of something red. I don’t bother asking what kind it is because I don’t know anything about wine. 

I take a sip and it’s like really dry grape juice. It’s not as good as the schnapps, but it’s probably worth a lot more so I don’t mention that out loud. 

“Do we have a new plan for Perchta?” I ask as I eat my insanely delicious soup. (There’s no fucking way he knows how to make stuff this good just from reading a book. He’s perfect but no one could be that perfect.)

“I’m just going to kill her geese,” he says, like it’s no big deal. 

“Do you have a plan that keeps her from snapping us while we do that?” I ask.

“I’ll be fast.”

I shrug. I can’t think of anything better.

When I finish the soup, I eat the bread and it’s amazing.

“Did you bake this?” I ask. I haven’t seen any bread around before. 

“Yes,” he says. 

“Why are you always up so early? You always wake up as late as you can at Watford.”

“Because at Watford, you won’t starve to death if I’m not up to make you food,” he says. 

I know he’s trying to insult me, but that’s actually really nice of him.

I finish off my wine and he was right. It didn’t get me drunk. I have a very slight warm feeling. But I don’t think it’ll affect my fighting ability. 

Baz takes away the dishes and I hear him wash them in the kitchen. 

It’s almost time.

I go in the kitchen and ask, “Do you want me to lure her away so you can kill the geese?”

“Yes. Say, ‘Ich habe einen kleinen Schwanz,’ to her. If it doesn’t get her attention, shout it at her.”

I start repeating it trying to memorize it. Baz corrects me a few times, but after saying it twenty or so times I think I have it down. 

When Baz is done with the dishes we go to the foyer and wait.

When it’s time, that awful feeling creeps up on us. 

I shiver then try to shake off the feeling of hopelessness and dread.

I repeat it in my head.

_Ich habe einen kleinen Schwanz._

I call my sword just in case.

The door opens on its own and snow blows in and then it takes the shape of her.

“Guten Abend,” she says menacingly.

I take a few steps away from her then say, “Ich habe einen kleinen Schwanz.”

She raises an eyebrow and looks me up and down. 

I take another few steps backward and she doesn’t follow me, so I yell, “Ich habe einen kleinen Schwanz!”

She gives me a smile and tilts her head. Am I saying this right?

“Ich habe einen kleinen Schwanz,” I repeat and take a few more steps back.

She follows. Right as I’ve led her into the hallway, I hear the geese come.

“ _Honk! Honk!_ ”

I look past Perchta and Baz has his khopesh out and immediately starts slicing off geese heads three at a time.

Perchta turns into her ugly form and lunges at me and turns to a gust of snow right before she reaches me.

“Eww,” I say. “I’m covered in witch lady snow.”

I shiver and I don’t know if it’s because the snow is cold or if it’s because I’m covered in Perchta.

“It’s just snow, Snow.”

“It’s gross.”

I try to brush it off but it’s all in my armor.

Baz walks up to me with his wand out and says, “ **_Bone dry_ **!” and the snow disappears. 

“Thanks,” I tell him.

After he spells the dead geese away I ask, “Is there more soup?”

“You just had a very large bowl not even ten minutes ago.”

“Yeah, but it was good,” I say. 

“I made an extra soup and an extra bowl for later. I guess you can have it now. Maybe after, you’ll be too heavy for the harpies to lift you.”

I can’t decide if I wanna say thanks or tell him to fuck off, so I just growl. 

We go back into the kitchen together, and right before we go in, Baz shoves me away.

“What the hell?” I ask. 

“Sorry,” he says. “We almost walked under the mistletoe again.”

“Oh.”

I know we’re both blokes, but it does sting a bit that he’s so repulsed by me.

“Just wait in the dining room and I’ll bring it to you,” he says.

I get up and go into the dining room, and Baz brings me my soup. 

He drinks tea while I eat in awkward silence. 

Without conversation, I finish it really fast then say, “I’m going to play Skyrim while we wait,” and go into the TV room. 

I sit down and start playing. Apparently my husband and I can adopt children. 

After a few minutes, Baz comes in and says, “I wonder how many people have played Skyrim while wearing a full suit of armor.”

“Probably not a lot. It’s difficult to push the buttons with these gauntlets on.”

After playing in silence for a while, I ask, “Do we have a plan for the harpies?”

“We’ll lock up the room. No reason to let them fly about the house.”

“Should we wear our helmets?” I ask. 

“That’s probably a good idea.”

“I wish we had a bow and arrow. The only way we were really able to kill them yesterday was you throwing your daggers.”

“You muppet. I don’t understand how you come up with decent plans without realizing it constantly. I’ll just bring more knives,” he says. 

I shrug. 

I just work on becoming thane of Riften so I can buy a house and move there with my family. 

Right when I finish the quest to help the people in the city, Baz says “It’s time.”

I go to the library to get our helmets then to the foyer and Baz disappears for a minute before showing up with a knife block full of kitchen knives.

“Can I throw some of those?” I ask.

“Nope. **_Close the gates!_ **”

The foyer doors slam shut and lock.

I hand Baz his helmet and we put them on. It’s a little hard to see but it’s better than a talon to the head. 

_Deck the Halls_ rings and Baz says, “ **_Open sesame!_ **” 

The harpies all fly in and start screeching. I try to cover my ears but I can’t with the helmet on. 

I’m about to take it off when Baz casts, “ **_Silent night! Holy night!_ **”

Everything goes quiet and it’s disorienting looking through the slit of my helmet at the flurry of white feathers flying above me. 

I get knocked over and if it wasn’t for my helmet, my face would have broken my fall. 

I feel vibrations next to me and look over, and there’s a dead harpy on the ground next to me. 

I get to my knees and look around and harpies are raining down.

I look over at Baz and he’s throwing knife after knife until the block is empty.

I look around the room again and the floor is littered with white feathers stained red. 

I see one writhing on the ground, still alive, and Baz calmly walks to it and uses his space dagger to stab it in the head. 

Baz takes off his helmet and takes out his wand with a string of bells, and I see his lips moving, and after a second I hear, “ **_joyous voices sweet and clear!_ **”

“Well, that was quick,” I say, taking off my helmet. 

“T.M.I. Friday. Just four more days of this and all will be merry and bright.”

”What is T.M.I. Friday?” I ask.

“Thank Merlin, it’s Friday. That’s the phrase Normals say, right?” he says. 

“Normals don’t say Merlin,” I tell him. 

“Whatever. **_Open the gates!_ **”

“I wish they’d all come at once so we could get it over with. It’s getting so easy,” I say. 

“It really is more of an inconvenience than a threat,” Baz agrees.

I go back to the TV room and Baz follows. 

He sits next to me on the couch and our armor clinks together. 

In the game, I become thane of Riften, I buy the house and tell Onmund to move there. I have it furnished and have a kids room built, then I go to the orphanage and talk to the kids.

They all have sad stories and want to be adopted. I don’t know who to pick.

“There’s also orphans living on the street in a few cities,” Baz tells me. 

“That’s terrible.”

“And if you don’t like any of them, you can orphan a child then adopt them.”

“You can kill people and take their children?” I ask.

“Yep.”

“What the fuck? Why would they put that in the game? Why do you know this?”

“It’s just a game, Snow. It’s not real,” he says. 

“It’s still fucked up.”

“Just pick Runa and Francois.”

“Why?” I ask.

“Because neither you nor your husband have last names to give them and they’re the only two that already have last names… Also they seem nice.”

“Okay.” That’s as good of a reason as any I guess.

After playing a while, seven o’clock starts approaching and I get a little antsy.

I pause the game and sit back.

“Alright, Snow?” Baz asks. 

“Yeah. Just the anticipation is a bit stressful.”

“We’ve killed nearly a hundred creatures this week. We can handle eight more.”

“Yeah. You’re right. It’ll be fine.”

Baz says, “It’s almost time. Let’s go,” and gets up. 

I follow him into the foyer.

I call my sword and give it some practice swishes through the air. 

_Deck the Halls_ rings. 

It’s a minute early. It’s never a minute early. 

“ **_Open sesame!_ **” Baz says. 

As soon as the door opens, loads of female demons wearing what appears to be metal lingerie stride in. (It can’t be armor. It doesn’t cover any vital organs. Their chests and stomachs are mostly exposed.)

They have hooves and long horns. They have red wings and tails and their skin is practically red too. 

This is going to be difficult. They all have different weapons. One even has a whip. 

“He said they were young but he didn’t say anything about them being handsome too,” one says in an accent I don’t recognize. 

I make eye contact with her and her eyes glow yellow. I quickly look away and she laughs.

One licks her lips with her forked tongue. 

I look around and realize they’ve circled us. 

Baz and I are back to back, trying to keep our eyes on them.

One holding a spear says, “Can I go first? Please?”

“Can I have the dead one?” I hear one behind me beg. 

“Akh. Azat ul dumularz!” one shouts.

The one in front of me steps forward and gives her spear a slow kiss while staring at me unblinkingly. 

Then in a swift and smooth motion, she starts spinning her spear around, alternating between arms, showing off her expertise. Then she strikes a pose, holding the spear under one arm, and beckoning me with her other hand.

The rest of them take a relaxed stance. 

“I think they want us to fight them one on one,” I say.

“Thank you, Admiral Obvious.”

“Admiral?”

“Yes. I’ve promoted you from Captain.”

The demon lady runs at me so I run at her to give Baz some space. 

When I reach her, I take a swing at her with my sword and she blocks it with her spear. 

Her eyes glow yellow when I look into them, then I draw my sword back and swing at her again. She blocks me again. 

She takes swings at me and I’m just barely fast enough to block each strike.

She pulls her spear back then tries to stab me with it but I move out of the way just in time.

I hear clanging behind me. I hope Baz is doing alright. 

The demon swings her spear at my ankles to trip me, but I jump then bury my sword in her neck.

All the demonic women hiss at me.

I look behind me and Baz is standing with his back to me, breathing heavy, as a demon’s head rolls. Then past him I see the rest of her body fall to the floor.

“Dhuzud azat rad!” the one with the whip shouts.

They all descend on us.

I’m moving as quick as I can to use my sword to deflect blows from a sword, scimitar and daggers. 

All I can do is defend myself and I’m just barely managing. 

When I get a chance, while bringing my sword up to defect a scimitar, I bring it back to hit the one with daggers in the face. She stumbles backwards.

I hear a whip sound then a clang on the floor. Baz must have been disarmed. 

Baz pushes me toward the doors and yells, “Move!” 

One of the demons standing near them lunges at me with a sword. I block it with mine then kick her in the stomach, pushing her away. 

I swing my sword and cut the throat of the one with daggers on my way to the door.

We open the door and Baz pulls me left, into the hallway.

“I killed two. There’s four left,” Baz says, panting and we run down the hall. 

The demons are close behind. 

I make eye contact with one when I look, and her eyes glow yellow and she hisses. 

We go through the dining hall and into the kitchen.

The one with the scimitar is fast and is on Baz in seconds.

She takes a swing at him, and he hooks her arm with his dagger, pulls it down, then slides the blade across her throat.

Blood gushes out as she clutches her throat.

When I hear the snap of a whip again, it’s too late. My sword is ripped from my hand.

She throws the sword aside then grabs my arm with the whip and pulls me to her.

I kiss her. We’re standing under the mistletoe. 

Her eyes glow yellow and when the kiss is over I shove her away and she hisses and says, “Izubu fuk kul dobat. Goth u shara.”

Suddenly there’s a knife in her left eye and she falls over. 

I look behind me and Baz already has another knife in his hand, ready to throw. 

One of the two left shouts, “nukhud burz shara kul latob gurz!” ominously and they run. 

Without a weapon, it’s stupid to chase, but I need to see where they go so I do it anyways. 

I follow them to the front door and they take off and fly out.

Baz and I look at each other. I think he’s just as confused as I am. 

I close the front door and lock it. 

“Are they going to come back?” I ask. 

“I don’t know.”

“Is this bad?” I ask. 

“I don’t know. I think this means they’re intelligent and have a plan… You don’t run away from a fight unless you’re smart enough to know you’ll lose. And you don’t usually threaten people unless you have a plan.”

“That was a threat?” I ask.

“It sounded like it to me.”

“What do we do now?” I ask. 

“I don’t know, Snow! I don’t know what those things are. I don’t know what language they speak. I don’t know what they do. None of the creatures have fled before, so I don’t know how it works,” Baz says with a raised voice. 

“Okay,” I say softly, to calm him down. “We’ll wait for an hour, and if they don’t come back by then, we’ll go about the rest of the night normally but with weapons nearby.”

He doesn’t say anything so I bump his shoulder with mine. Our armor clinks. 

“It’ll be alright,” I tell him. 

I go grab my sword from the kitchen, then we sit in the library. 

We sit in silence next to each other on a couch that has a view of the entrance and the clock.

The moment eight o’clock rolls around, even though it hasn’t been a whole hour since they left, Baz says, “Okay. They’re not coming back,” and starts practically ripping off his gauntlets.

Then he starts tugging at the straps on the sides. He’s struggling to undo them and he growls. 

I’m afraid he’ll actually rip them off and break it, so I say, “Let me.”

He pauses for a moment like he’s considering it, then stands up and moves his arm to give me access. 

I stand up too and unbuckle one side, then he turns so I can get the other side. I take off his pauldrons then lift the breastplate over his head and set it aside.

I sit down and reach for the straps on his grieves then he flinches away. 

“I was just... “ _reaching for your thigh…_ I probably should have warned him.

He quickly realizes when I was doing and moves back toward me, looking away from me. 

I unbuckle him all the way down one leg then all the way down the other. 

Once everything is off, before I can ask him to help or not to help, he’s taking off my paultrons. 

After he’s taken off my gauntlets and breastplate he gets on his knees and pushes my legs apart to unbuckle my grieves.

I feel like I should look away, but I can’t. 

Maybe vampires have the power to get your attention and keep it. I’ve never been able to not pay attention to Baz. 

When he unbuckles the last buckle, he looks up at me. We make eye contact. In my peripheral I can see his lips slightly parted, but I can’t look away from his perfect grey eyes.

This has to be a vampire thing.

Baz stands up really fast, clears his throat, says, “I’m going to prepare the ingredients,” and walks away.

“You’re still going to show me how to make food?” I ask, surprised considering the day we had. 

He doesn’t answer. He just walks out the door. 

I step out of my greaves and leave them in a pile on the couch. 

When I get in the kitchen, Baz is pouring sugar in a bowl, and I say, “Hey. I thought you were supposed to be showing me how to do this.”

“I’m pouring thirty grams of sugar in a bowl. I think you already know how to pour.”

“What are we making?” I ask. 

“Christmas scones.”

I perk up at that. Those scones were amazing. 

“What’s next?” I ask.

“We add half a tablespoon of cinnamon.” 

In another bowl, he shows me how to crack an egg. He does it with one hand, and when I try, I do it too hard, and it pretty much explodes half into the bowl and half on the counter. 

After we clean that up, he shows me again and says, “Just tap it lightly.”

I tap it on the side of the bowl, and it dents. Then I do it a little harder and it breaks. I use two hands to break the shell in half, letting the egg spill into the bowl. 

I look at Baz, excited that I did it, and he says, “Congratulations. You can crack an egg.”

And that’s how the whole process goes. Me being excited at each step and Baz rolling his eyes. 

Once we have them cut out and on a baking sheet, he says, “We put it in the oven for fifteen minutes. Also, if you make these again, before you start, preheat the oven to 210 degrees.”

Then he hands me his red and white snowflake oven mitts and says, “It’s normally safe to put in the tray without mitts, but knowing you, you’ll manage to get burnt and drop the scones everywhere.”

I put the mitts on, then open the oven. The heat radiates out to me in waves. 

I slide the tray in and close the door. 

“Now we wait,” he says, and sets a timer.

“Why did that demon get so angry when we kissed under the mistletoe?” I ask. 

“Probably because she didn’t want to kiss you,” he says like it should be obvious. “I’d be pretty upset too.”

I know I should expect Baz to feel that way, but hearing it feels like a punch to the chest. 

It must be because I miss Agatha. 

But I’m not sure that I do miss her. 

This time with Baz, on the one hand has been horrible. He’s been a total twat and we’ve been fighting for survival the whole time. But on the other hand, it has also been a lot of fun. More fun than anything we ever did at her house. 

Watching Doctor Who specials with her was nice. But I think I liked singing to Frozen with Baz more.

Unprovoked, Baz says, “I think they might have had some sort of magical ability that wasn’t working on us. I think she got angry because after you two kissed, she realized it wasn’t working. But I don’t know what kind of demon powers specifically don’t work with mages, so I don’t know what they were. It’s also a bit peculiar that they’d send demons who are ineffective against mages considering they know we are mages. It really doesn’t make sense.”

“Maybe this is a good thing,” I say. “Maybe tomorrow they won’t even come back. Maybe they’ll skip the hour and we’ll get some free time before whatever comes next.”

“Nine drummers drumming comes next… These days are getting really long.”

“Yeah, but it’s only four more days. So we’re two thirds done,” I say.

“That’s incredible,” Baz says. 

“What?” 

“You can do basic math. What’s nine times seven?” 

I glare then say, “sixty-three.”

“What’s eight to the second power?” he asks. 

I think about it for a moment then say, “sixty-four.” 

“What’s the derivative of x squared?”

“I have no idea.”

“Mmm,” Baz hums, sounding disappointed. “I thought maybe you were an idiot savant. It would explain some things.” 

“Oh, fuck off.”

Baz gets out a wire thing from a cupboard and says, “This is a cooling rack. We put the scones on this next.”

Then the timer dings. 

I put the oven mitts back on and take the tray out and set it on the counter. 

It smells amazing. It smells like how Christmas is supposed to feel.

“Don’t forget to turn the oven off when you’re done,” he says. 

I take off my oven mitts, find the off button and press it. 

Then he hands me a spatula. I put each of the scones on the rack. 

It’s torture for them to be there, looking and smelling perfect, but being inedible because they’re still too hot. 

Baz gets that jar of homemade jam out of the fridge. 

When they’ve cooled enough he hands me the jar and a spoon and I put some on a scone and finally eat it. 

I know Christmas at Baz’s house during a Humdrum attack should be the worst experience of my life. But these scones are worth it. They’re my new favorite thing. And the best part is I know how to make them now. 

“Baking is kinda fun,” I say, with a mouthful of scone. 

“Yes. It is rather nice.”

When I realize he’s not eating, I remind him, “I’ve seen you eat loads of times now. You might as well have some.”

He sighs then puts jam on a scone and eats it. It reminds me of the night he was drunk and smiled at me. 

When Baz sees me staring he covers his mouth and says, “What?” 

“Sorry,” I say, and look away. “I just spaced out.”

After a moment, I ask, “Do you really know how to make food just from reading a cookbook?”

Baz sighs again. I think the long days are getting to him.

“After my mother died, I spent a lot of time with my nanny Vera. I watched her cook, and I learned that way,” he says. 

“So, your stepmom didn’t teach you?”

“She’s lovely, but she doesn’t know her way around a kitchen.”

That explains the fruitcakes. 

After we’ve eaten all the scones, Baz starts washing the tray and spoon and I ask, “Why don’t you use the dishwasher?”

“This is easier.”

“Then why do dishwashers exist?”

“I don’t know how to use it,” he admits. 

“At least you aren’t just duplicating the plates and throwing the dirty ones away like with the clothes.”

“If I duplicated fine china, it would decrease their value.”

“If duplication is possible, why don’t we end world hunger?” I ask. 

“There is already enough food to feed everyone. The rich just buy it all then let it go to waste.”

“But you’re rich,” I say.

“Yes, but we don’t waste food. Our fridges are spelled to keep food from going bad.”

I knew it. 

“But,” he continues, “It would take more magic than anyone has to duplicate that much food. Except maybe you.”

“I could end world hunger?”

“Please don’t try. It would be nice to end world hunger, but I don’t want you to accidentally summon an ocean of butter and destroy all life on earth.”

I slouch, feeling disappointed. For a tick I thought I could actually do some good for the world. (I’m obviously not being very successful at stopping The Humdrum.)

Baz says, “My father sometimes works with an organization called The International Fund for Architectural Development. I wouldn’t recommend it, but if you wanted to help, you could talk to him about it.”

“That doesn’t sound evil,” I say. 

“Did you want to help with something evil?”

“No, but I always imagined your family was... “ 

“Plotting?”

“Yes.”

“Well, not all plots are evil,” he says. 

“I suppose not,” I admit. 

After he puts the tray away, we go to his room. It’s not that late, but it was a long day, and it’s going to be a longer day tomorrow, so we need rest. 

I’m about to get on the couch when Baz says, “Sleep in my bed.”

“What?”

“Sleep in my bed. Your neck has been bothering you for days and it’ll just get worse.”

“It’s fine,” I say. 

“If your neck is giving you problems tomorrow, and it affects your ability to fight, and I die, you’ll have a lot to explain on Christmas,” Baz warns. 

I don’t think my neck is that bad, but when he puts it that way, I guess I don’t want him to die just because I insisted I sleep on the couch. 

“Fine,” I say, and take my pillow to the side of his bed. I guess it is a pretty big bed. 

We both get in and I stay as close to the edge as I can. I roll on my side with my back to him and fall asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heads up. I expect to have chapter 12 done in time. But the chapters for Christmas Eve and Christmas will be late unfortunately. I'm not sure when they will be done. Hopefully within 2019. I want the end to be good so I don't want to rush it. 
> 
> Also, the art on the first chapter will be finished and updated eventually.


	10. The Ninth Day of Christmas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On the ninth day of Christmas Krampus gave to me: nine drummers drumming, eight maids a milking, seven swans a swimming, six geese a laying, five golden rings, four Colly birds, three French hens, two turtle doves, and a partridge in a peartree.

**Saturday, December 21st**

I wake up and feel something cool against my forehead. It feels nice. 

Then I realize my whole body is pressed against something. 

I open my eyes and freeze as I realize what it is. 

_I’m spooning Baz._

My forehead is against the back of his neck.

After a moment of panic, I carefully remove my hand from his hip (still panicking) and slowly roll away so I don’t wake him.

Somehow during the night, we both shifted to the middle of the bed. 

I usually run hot at night, and he’s cold so I must have been drawn to it while we were sleeping. 

I slowly get off the bed, then tip toe out of the room. 

If he knew what had happened, he’d skin me alive. 

My heart is still racing. 

I sit on the stairs and start doing the yoga breathing. 

“What are you doing?” Baz asks from behind me, making me jump.

“I- Uhh- Nightmare.” 

Fuck. That wasn’t even a sentence. 

“Do you wanna talk about it?” Baz asks carefully.

“No,” I say too fast. 

“Do you want breakfast?”

“No,” I say before I even registered what he asked. 

“... Are you okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I want breakfast. Yes.”

“Any requests?” he asks. 

“What?” 

“Get back in bed. I’ll bring you something.”

“Bed?”

Baz puts a cold hand against my forehead. I jerk back and almost fall down the stairs even though it felt nice. 

“Crowley, Snow. Are you always that warm? Fevers over forty-two degrees can cause brain damage. It’d explain a lot.”

“Yeah,” is all I say. 

Why can’t I talk?

“Go watch Frozen. I’ll be back,” he says, and goes around me down the stairs.

After a few minutes, my heart rate goes down, and I go get the laptop from under the couch. 

I stare at the bed. 

It’s just a bed. I can sit in it. 

It’s not a big deal. It’s just a bed. 

Baz doesn’t know. It was an accident. 

It’s just a bed and it is okay to sit in it. 

I sit on the couch.

I put the laptop next to me and play Frozen. 

This is bad. I feel well rested and my neck doesn’t even hurt anymore. Why do I always have the worst luck?

By the time Anna’s duet with Hans starts, Baz walks in with a tray. 

“Snow, I told you to get in bed.”

“Right,” I say, and hesitantly get in bed. 

He puts the tray in front of me and there’s eggs, toast, an orange and a glass of something purple. 

“It’s a banana-blueberry smoothie,” he says. 

“Thanks.”

He picks up the laptop and puts it on the bed so I can keep watching then asks, “Are you going to be able to fight today?”

“Yeah. I’m fine,” I lie. 

I start eating, and like always, it’s delicious. 

The smoothie is cold and sweet. 

When I finish it, I don’t feel so hot anymore and I finally relax a bit.

It _is_ fine. 

He doesn’t know. He thinks I don’t know that he fell asleep on my lap and he’s fine. 

_Oh god._

What if he does know and he’s pretending not to just like I pretended not to?

This is officially going on my list of things I don’t think about. 

“How’s your neck?” Baz asks. 

“Better.”

“Good. We have about a half hour before noon. I’m going to have tea in the library. I’ll meet you down there soon,” he says and leaves.

When I finish eating I go meet him. 

Without a word, he starts putting my armor on me. I just disassociate while he does it. 

_Don’t think. Don’t think._

I’m not even sure what I’m not thinking about at this point. All I know is that it's important that I don’t think about it. 

When he’s done, he hands me his breast plate and it takes me a moment to remember what I’m supposed to do with it. 

I start putting everything on him. I strap on his pauldrons and gauntlets, but when I get to his grieves, my hands start trembling. 

“Hmm?” Baz asks, after I hesitate. 

I’ve never been able to put Baz on my list of things I don’t think about. I’ve tried for years and it doesn’t work.

I have to just tell him and let him be angry. 

“We haven’t got all day,” Baz complains.

Later. I’ll tell him later. 

I strap his grieves around his thighs and calves. 

“Okay, it’s almost time,” he says and walks to the foyer. 

I follow. 

After a moment the grandfather clock rings, then _Deck the Halls_ rings. 

We open the door and as I say, “ **_Dead in the air!_ **” I get hit in the face by a dead partridge, and fall back.

I hear Baz cast the flaming tree back into the blizzard and shut the door. 

“Crowley, are you alright?” Baz asks. 

“Yeah. My cheek hurts though.”

Baz points his wand at me and says, “ **_Get well soon!_ **” and the pleasant warmth spread over my face.

“Thanks,” I say as he helps me up. 

We go back into the library. Baz starts looking for books that mention drummers. 

But I wanna find something we can make for dinner, so I cast, “ **_Fine-tooth comb—cookbook!_ **”

A small stack flies into my arms and I take them to a chair and start flipping through them. 

After an hour, we go back to the foyer, locking the doors, and I call my sword, readying for the perytons. 

When one o’clock rolls around, we wait for the ring. But nothing happens. 

We both look from the clock to the door confused. 

There’s a slight thumping sound coming from somewhere. 

“Do you hear what I hear?” I ask Baz.

Then there’s a crashing sound behind us.

We turn around and Baz casts, “ **_Open the gates!_ **” and we see the perytons in the library.

The windows on the back wall are shattered and as soon as the perytons see me, they soar into the foyer, right at me. 

If it was one, I’d stand my ground and wait for it to get close enough and kill it, but I’m not going to take my chances with two. So I run.  
  
I start running in big circles as fast as I can.  
  
“Baz! Help!” I shout. 

As I’m running I see him aiming his antler dagger like he’s playing darts. 

I look ahead again to avoid running into a pillar, and when I hear a thud, I decide to chance it, and I turn around and swing. 

I successfully cut it in half before it gets to me, and the other is on the ground with an antler dagger in its neck.

I put my sword away, put my hands on my knees and pant for a moment. 

“You need to do more cardio,” Baz says. 

“Fuck off,” I say and walk to the foyer doors. 

Then I smile and say, “enjoy breakfast,” and shut the doors behind me. 

I sit back down in the library, which is pretty cold with the broken window, and page through books. Some of these recipes are weird. Some require fairies… 

There’s a thud on the roof again that makes me drop my book, and I can see more snow fall in front of the window. I wait a minute and I hear a howling. Thank Merlin it sounds like it’s not right above me.

I decide to go back to reading.

When Baz comes back I ask, “What does your shadow look like?”

I tilt the lamp to shine more light on him, and behind him is a minotaur shadow.

“Maybe these ones went rouge, attacked their own team, then burst in here and that’s why they weren’t at the door,” Baz says.

“Maybe.”

Baz spells the window fixed the best he can. It doesn’t look good, but it’s keeping the cold out. 

When it’s time, we lug the mirror into the foyer and wait for the cockatrice. 

We wait, and when the time comes, again there’s no ring.

We look at each other then we look behind us and listen. 

There’s no sound but we slowly lower the mirror to the ground.

I think I smell smoke. 

I open the foyer door and some smoke comes in. 

“Oh no,” Baz says, and starts running towards the kitchen. 

I follow him and he goes down the stairs to the servants quarters, and smoke is billowing up. 

“Baz, I don’t think you should go down there,” I say, and he ignores me. 

When we get down there, there’s fires everywhere and three demonic hens raising hell. 

Baz immediately starts casting, “ **_Cats and dogs!_ **” 

I run into the first bathroom I can find and rip the mirror off the wall. 

I chase around all the cockatrice, trying to get them to look in it. 

At first they all ignore it, but eventually they get tired of being chased and turn around to ignite me, then turn to stone. 

After that, Baz dries the rooms. 

There’s a cold breeze and we follow it to an open cellar door.

Baz closes it and casts, “ **_Close the gates!_ **” on it.

As we go back upstairs I ask, “Do you think these were flukes, or have they changed their strategy or something.”

“If the Strix don’t ring the bell, the game has no doubt been changed.”

“Do we wait for them with the lights out like usual or wait in the hall?”

“It would be safer to assume they’ll use the bell than it will be to assume they won’t. My eyes can adjust to light faster than darkness.”

When the time rolls around, Baz decides it’d be best if he waited in the foyer alone and I waited in the hall.

I knock on the door a few times to ask if he’s alright. I know he gets nervous before the Strix.

Every time he says, “I’m fine. Stop asking.”

When three o’clock hits, I hear rustling to the kitchen so I knock on the door and tell Baz. 

I see the lights flick on and hear him spell the door unlocked. 

With a hand covering his eyes, he said, “Lure them in there. They’re stupid. They’ll come. Then turn off the lights and try not to die.”

“Got it,” I say. 

I look towards the kitchen and I see them all headed my way. 

It looks like three with spears and one with a shield.

The one with a shield is in front and the march towards me single file. 

This is going to be easy. 

I just wait for them to get close, then I run into the foyer and stand next to a light switch. As soon as they enter, I cast, “ **_Close the gates!_ **” and turn the switch off. 

I use the wall to guide me away from where I was standing so they won’t blindly attack me. 

Then I hear them being killed one by one. 

When Baz says, “All done” I flip the lights back on. 

“So, this is definitely intentional?” I ask.

“Yeah. They’ve decided to up their game. **_Ashes to ashes! Dust to dust!_ **” 

After he cleans up, we wait in the library again. He makes tea for us and I still haven’t found a single dish to make that isn’t weird. 

The Pitch’s had weird taste. 

When the time comes, we don’t ready the ballista. We don't know where the minotaur will come from and it takes too long to reload. 

We’re both pretty anxious about the minotaur.

We decide to patrol around the house. 

When we walk into the stair room, there’s the sound of breaking glass. The skylight broke. 

A minotaur jumps down from it, and Baz casts, “ **_The bigger they are, the harder they fall!_ **” and he falls through the same hole the other one made at lightning speeds. 

“Well, that was easy,” I say. 

“He didn’t even make a new hole,” Baz marvels. 

While we wait for Perchta, we get more boards to repatch the hole and Baz uses the nailgun to secure them in place. We can’t fix the skylight because it’s too high up, so that whole wing of the house is going to be cold.

Baz makes me a ham and cheese sandwich and after I finish we go back to patrolling the house. 

Baz is carrying around the knife block. He hasn’t said why, but I assume he has a plan. 

All he’s told me to do is say, “Mein kleiner Schwanz ist fähig.”

After practicing it for a minute, he snorts. 

“What?” I ask. 

“Nothing,” he says. 

“Wait… What does that mean?”

“Don’t worry about it. It worked last time, didn’t it?” he says.

“I thought it was something threatening. What was it?” 

“It means ‘I will end you.’”

“Really?”

“No. But it worked last time. It’ll work this time.”

“Well, now I don’t want to say it,” I say as we enter the cold stairs room.

Baz stops smiling as that feeling of dread hits us. The one that makes you want to hide instead of fight. 

Snow falls from the skylight and swirls around and takes her shape. 

“Guten Abend, meine kleinen Twinks,” she says, smiling. 

I don’t know what else to do, so I say, “Mein kleiner Schwanz ist fähig!”

She smiles and says, “Bist du sicher?”

I walk backwards and yell, “Mein kleiner Schwanz ist fähig!”

She follows. 

Then behind her I see her geese flutter down. But before they reach the ground, a knife finds its way into each one.

Perchta screams and shoves me, then turns to snow. 

“I told you it’d work,” Baz says. 

While we wait for the harpies, I see in my stack of books, there’s one called The Anarchist’s Cookbook.

I hold it up and ask, “What is this?”

“It’s a book from the 70’s that teaches you loads of stuff you shouldn’t know. How to buy drugs, how to make drugs, how to make bombs and booby traps. You should take it with a grain of salt though. There’s instructions in there on how to get high on bananas.”

“You can get high on bananas?”

“Heavens, no,” he says. 

I flip through it and see the booby traps, and I say, “Maybe we could use something from this.”

“Letting you in my house was bad enough. I don’t want to compound my mistake by letting you try to make nitroglycerin… Imagine if Kevin McCallister from Home Alone had that book. Those robbers wouldn’t have survived.”

I laugh a little at that, then say, “But really. I feel like we’ve just gotten lucky. What if the minotaur got the jump on us? What if anything did? Some traps could help.” 

“Are you suggesting we ice the stairs and put micro machines on the floor?” he asks. 

“Yeah. Do you have any?”

“No. Even if I did, it’s a terrible idea. You’ll just fall into your own trap and get hurt.” 

“If they are upping their game, we have to too,” I say. 

“Well, we don’t have time to make a harpy trap and I don’t know how to make a demon trap. I don’t even know for sure if they are demons.” 

“Tomorrow then.”

“Fine. Tomorrow,” he agrees. 

I flip through the Anarchist's Cookbook until I find the thing about bananas he mentioned. 

“Baz. How many stones is fifteen American pounds?” I ask.

“About one.”

“Step two to getting high on bananas says to eat a whole stone of them.”

Baz puts his book down, lights the fireplace with his palm, and calmly walks over to me. He takes my book and throws it across the room into the fire. 

“Oi!” I yell. “Some of that could have been useful.”

“As much as I believe in freedom of information, there is nothing good that can come of you reading that book. Plus, it’s for Normals. It won’t be useful against magical creatures. We’ll figure out something better tomorrow.”

I grumble and go back to looking through cookbooks.

When the time comes, we put on our helmets and patrols again, waiting for the harpies. 

Six o’clock rolls around and we listen for them but we don’t hear anything. We walk out of the library and go right and check the kitchen and dining room.

All seems fine. The harpies are loud so I think we’d hear them if they were in the house, but we check the servants quarters anyways.

After waiting down there for some time, we go back up stairs. 

We go in the foyer and peak around the sheets covering the windows. 

We decide to look around upstairs and as we walk down the hallway, there’s a loud crash and we get pushed into the wall, knocking over old paintings of Pitches, as the harpies burst through the windows tackling us. 

They sound like the Nazgûl from Lord of the Rings but louder.

I drop my sword to try to cover my ears over my helmet, then I hear Baz say, “ **_Silent night! Holy night!_ **” and everything goes silent. 

I pick my sword back up and swing away. I hack and slash at them when they get near. 

The icy wind from the broken windows chills me through my armor but at the same time the hot suck from The Humdrum makes me break out in a cold sweat.

A few times, one has tried to pick me up, but they can’t grip my armor. 

When the last one alive flies at me, I see a dagger go into its neck, and it drops. 

Baz retrieves his dagger then starts spelling the window back together. 

I can’t hear which spells he’s using but the window gets fixed, and seals the hallway again from the blizzard. 

I take off my helmet, then Baz takes off his and pats his sides. 

He doesn’t seem to find what he’s looking for, so he goes into the stairs room, and picks up some decorative sleighbells from the banister. 

His lips move and I don’t hear anything until “ **_joyous voices sweet and clear!_ **” Then I can hear the low rumble of the air vents and the clinking of our armor again.

As Baz **ashes to ashes** them, I get a broom from the only closet that isn’t the size of a room in the whole house. (It’s maybe big enough for a person to stand in.) He lets me help sweep it all to the front door.

We hear something going on in the left side of the house so we quickly run to the hall. 

In the kitchen, demons are piling in.

I look at the clock and it’s 6:50. Why are they early and how did it get so late? 

Baz and I jog to the kitchen stopping before the mistletoe. 

These demons are different. They’re all male. They have red wings and reddish skin like the other ones. And they’re somehow wearing even less, showing off how extremely fit they are. 

I accidentally look in the eyes of one with a broken horn, and his eyes go yellow, then my mind goes into a haze. It’s a feeling I’ve never felt before. It’s kinda nice, actually. I feel like he doesn’t want to hurt me.

When another talks I break eye contact with him and he smirks at me.

“Sorry we came in your backdoor,” one with a spiked mace says, heavily accented and with a smirk.

“Fukaush ash kul briz,” the one with the broken horn says. 

“Vadokan kul nar,” one says, looking at Baz.

Baz takes out his khopesh and beckons them.

“Shun ukh,” the one with the mace says in a commanding voice. 

Two step forward, and I take a step back. Baz doesn’t move.

As soon as the demons get to him they stop to kiss, and Baz quickly slices their heads off. 

“Ash nalt na a koh,” The one with the mace says, sounding annoyed, and one with a sword steps up. 

He walks to Baz, takes a swing and Baz blocks it with his khopesh. 

With Baz’s free hand, he grabs the demon by the wrist holding the sword, keeping it still, then slashes the demon with the khopesh, eviscerating him. 

A demon with a spear runs at him and tries to stab him, but Baz deflects it, then slices a bit off the end of the spear. 

I back up a bit so I don’t get hit by the spearhead flying by me.

The demon pulls out a dagger and rushes in close. As soon as that happens, Baz takes his head off. 

Another one with daggers attacks Baz, then I get pulled back around a corner, into the dining room. I’m about to yell or attack or something, but then I see into his yellow eyes and forget all about it. 

The haze returns and everything I was worried about seems to have disappeared. 

I never noticed how lonely I’ve always felt until right now because I no longer feel lonely. 

The demon puts a hand on my shoulder and my pulse quickens, but I’m not scared. 

The demon sniffs me then softly says, “Lat marr-ora mir.”

I don’t know what that means but it sounds nice. 

He strokes my cheek with his knuckles and I don’t even flinch. 

“Kramp lat nargzab u be zo?” he asks, leaning in. 

I don’t even know what the question is, but I want to say yes. 

Before I can, the haze disperses, and I see a dagger in his temple. 

I look over and see Baz panting and everything comes back to me. 

“Are there any left?” I ask.

“No,” Baz says, reaching down to pull out his dagger. 

“I don’t think he wanted to hurt me,” I say. 

“He did. His powers were working on you. It’s what the ones from yesterday tried and failed to do.”

“Oh. Why didn’t the powers work on you?” I ask. 

“I think my vampirism gives me some immunity.” 

“Okay. So, what’s next?” I ask. 

“In a little less than an hour, the nine drummers drumming will be here.” 

“These days are so long now. I just want to go to sleep,” I complain. 

“You need energy for the next wave. I’ll make you tea and a smoothie,” Baz says, then walks over the demon corpses to dig out a bag of frozen berries from the freezer. 

When he’s done making everything, he brings it into the dining room, then drags out the demon corpse and sits down with me. 

He drinks his tea while I alternate between tea and the smoothie. 

Every time I drink the smoothie too fast and get brain freeze, I drink some tea and it feels better. 

Baz eventually tells me to relax while he cleans up the demons. I’d offer to help, but I am tired and I want to keep my energy up for the drummers. 

When he comes back, I ask, “What do you do with all the weapons and armor after you sweep the ashes away?”

“I’ve been putting it all in a linen closet.”

“Is any of it valuable?” I ask.

“Some of it is not bad, but it’s mostly rubbish.”

I think about getting on the table and laying down. I remember it being pretty comfy last time.

But I don’t want to get more tired.

“At least those demons didn’t try to milk anything,” I say.

“I wouldn’t be so sure,” Baz mumbles. 

I’m about to ask him what that means, but then he says, “Do you hear what I hear?”

I listen and after a moment I hear _The Little Drummer Boy_. I can’t tell where it’s coming from. 

Baz and I both stand up. This is definitely the drummers. 

The beat sounds like it’s coming from all over the house, in the house. 

There’s no singing. Just banging. 

_Pa rum pum pum pum_

The lights go out and I hear Baz’s heavy breathing.

I feel him reach out and clutch my forearm, over my armor. 

“Can you see?” I ask. 

“Not yet,” he says and lights a fire in his palm, slightly illuminating the area. “There’s probably a flashlight in that broom closet.”

We both make our way to it as the drumming gets louder. 

We find the flashlight sitting next to the Elf on a Shelf then we go to the library because the fire is lit and it’s the brightest room. 

Then after what seems like ages, the drumming stops. There’s weird cackling and clanking. 

Then something drops into the fire in the fireplace and lets out a shrill shriek.

Something about three feet tall runs out of the fire, and Baz and I back up and away. Whatever it is dies about a meter away from the fireplace. 

“It can’t be,” Baz says. 

“It can’t be what?” I ask. 

There’s all kinds of banging coming from the kitchen, and Baz says, “lower the flashlight,” and keeps the flame lit in his palm as we quickly walk to investigate. 

When we get to the archway of the kitchen I say, “What the fuck?”

There are two gremlins furiously making out under the mistletoe. 

The mistletoe only compels a peck. They could stop. They’re choosing not to. And they know we’re here and they’re still choosing not to.

I look behind them, where the noise is coming from, and in the dark I see what looks like pots and pans moving around.

I shine my flashlight to see, and the two kissing hiss and scatter.

“They don’t like light,” Baz complains. “If you want to cox them out to kill them, it has to be dark… Also. _Do not get them wet._ ”

“Okay, okay,” I say and point my flashlight back down. 

We go into the kitchen, and a pan comes flying at Baz, and he ducks.

In the firelight I can see one on the countertop with a pot on its head. 

It yells something in gibberish at us and throws another pan. It hits me in the chest and makes a loud clang against my breastplate. 

Baz throws a fireball at it and it screeches in pain and runs around. When it gets near Baz, he casts, “ **_Sod off!_ **”

“Two down, seven to go,” he says, and we turn around to look for the love birds. 

We hear clinking from the dining room and go in.

… They’re drinking our tea.

“Drop it!” Baz demands. 

They cackle and take sips. 

“Drop it!” Baz yells, making the flame in his hand six times bigger.

They drop it and run. The teacups break and he runs after them into the hallway. 

I follow, and he throws a fireball at one, and it catches fire and runs off to die. 

The other runs around the ballista in the hall, and as soon as Baz gets around it, he throws a fireball at that one, catching it on fire. When it starts to run at Baz I cast, “ **_Fus ro dah!_ **” and it goes flying back and dies. 

We hear cackling from the artifacts room and when we go in, we see one up high on a shelf in the middle, and the other on the ground playing catch with an urn. 

“Don’t worry about it. Just kill them,” Baz whispers. 

I don’t know how to not worry about great grandma Pitch being thrown around but when the one up high throws it to the other, I tackle it and grab the urn. 

The Gremlin scratches me across the face, then a knife finds its way into its throat. 

I look up and see the same happen to the other one.

I sit up, and set the urn on the ground next to me. 

I feel something on my cheek, touch it, and look at my hand and realize I’m bleeding. 

Baz casts, “ **_Get well soon!_ **” on me and my face is flooded with warmth.

“Thank you… So, that’s six down. Three more.”

“I think I hear some upstairs,” Baz says. 

When we walk out into the stairs room, I hear cackling, and I look over to see a gremlin on the statues built into the stairs holding a nailgun.

It aims it at me and pulls the trigger. 

Nothing happens. 

“They don’t work like that,” I tell it, smugly. 

It looks at the shooting end of the nailgun and cackles. It presses a finger against the pressure plate, and starts firing.

Baz pushes me out of the way and into the TV room, before throwing a massive fireball at it and shutting the door. 

Baz is hissing and I ask, “Alright?”

He doesn’t respond, and I point the flashlight at him.

There’s nails sticking out of his armor all up and down his right side.

“Baz!”

“It’s fine,” Baz says and starts using his hand to pull one out of his hip. 

He groans and it sounds and looks incredibly painful.  
  
But he does pull it out. Then he does the same to three more. 

“Okay. Stay here. I’ll get the others,” I tell him. 

“I’m fine,” Baz says, and takes a step, hisses, and almost falls over.  
  
I catch him, and help him to the couch. 

“I’ve killed dragons,” I say. 

“Which is despicable.” 

“I know. But I’m saying I can handle two gremlins. Just stay here until I come back.”

After Baz agrees, I go upstairs with the flashlight.

I hear banging coming from his sister’s room, so I go up to it. 

The door is ajar, and as I push it open, I point the flashlight at the ground so it doesn’t shine on it directly and scare it off. 

Once I’ve opened it all the way, a disfigured teddy bear runs at me, screaming and I scream and run my sword through it.

It bleeds green and crumples to the floor.

I look around and see white stuffing everywhere. 

Ohh.

The gremlin hollowed out a teddy bear and wore it.

I hear pitter-patter come from around Baz’s room. 

Right when I get to the doorway, it runs past me. 

I chase it into the guest bathroom and it lifts the lid on the toilet. 

_Do not get them wet._

I don’t have time to run at it, because it’s about to jump in, so I throw my sword like a spear, and it pierces the gremlins chest, and it falls to the floor. 

Okay. That’s all nine of them.

I pick my sword back up and go back downstairs to look for Baz. 

I look in the TV room and he’s not there.

“Baz?” I call out.

There’s a thump from the hall and I go to it. 

“Baz?” I call out again.

There’s another thump from the broom closet.

I shine my flashlight at it and half of Baz’s wand is shoved in the doorframe and the other half is shoved in the key hole. 

“Baz? Are you in there?” I ask. 

“Yes,” he says quietly. 

“Hold on. I’m going to get you out,” I tell him. 

I set my flashlight on the ground and pry out the pieces of wand and try the doorknob but it’s still jammed. 

I pick up a fallen bust and use it to bash the door knob off. 

The door swings open and Baz falls onto his hands and knees. 

For a second I think he’s hurt. (More hurt.) Then I realize he’s crying. 

I’m not sure what exactly to do, but I get on the ground next to him, and gently pull him back by his shoulders until he’s seated next to me. Then I swivel so I’m facing him and wrap my arms around him.

I half expect him to light me on fire or at least recoil, but instead he wraps his arms around me and cries into my shoulder. 

I’m not entirely sure why he’s crying, except maybe because of his broken wand, so I’m not sure what exactly to say. So I just say things I’d want to hear when I’m upset. 

“It’s okay now. You’re okay,” I tell him softly. 

He clutches at me tighter, so I hold him tighter. 

His sobs are so quiet I almost wonder if I’m imagining them, but I know they’re real. 

“You’re okay,” I repeat over and over.

When his breathing steadies and he calms down a bit, I say, “Let’s go you to your room.” 

He’s limping so I have to help him up the stairs, but when we get there, he lights the fireplace and collapses on the floor in front of it because it’s bright and warm.

“Let’s get you out of this,” I say and start unstrapping his armor and taking it off piece by piece. 

When it’s all off, he reaches for the straps on mine. I would stop him and do it myself, but I can’t reach all of them. 

As he does it he says, “I never told you why I was gone for the first two monthes of term…”

I don’t say anything. I don’t know what to say. 

After he unbuckles all the straps, I take off my own pauldrons and breastplate.

“I—” He clears his throat. “—was kidnapped… By numpties.”

I gawk at him and ask, “Why didn’t you tell anyone?”

“Well, I tried,” he says. “I guess nobody heard me shouting from inside the coffin.”

I immediately wrap my arms around him again and he hisses. 

I withdraw feeling stupid, then he says, “can you switch sides?”

Oh, right. The nails. 

I scoot to his left side and wrap my arms around him and he leans into them.

In a coffin for two months. He’s afraid of the dark. That’s why he’s always nervous when he waits for the Stix. 

Being kept in a coffin for that long is unimaginable. 

“I’m sorry that happened to you,” I say softly. 

He shrugs in my arms. 

After staying like that for a while, I say, “We should clean your wounds and go to sleep.”

He nods, so I go in his bathroom and get out the hydrogen peroxide, cotton balls, and bandaids. 

I come back and sit on his right. 

“I’m— I’m going to need you to take off your leggings.”

Baz nods and slips them off. He has tight black boxer briefs under, like the ones he’s been giving me. 

(Have I been wearing Baz’s pants this whole time? I never thought of it like that before.)

There’s a hole in his calf, thigh and hip. I clean them and bandage them. He has to pull his pants down a little for me to get the one on his hip.

“Is there anywhere else?” I ask.

“My arm,” he says, moving his sleeve to show me. 

He starts shivering as I clean that last wound. The house is getting really cold with the power out. 

“Thanks again for pushing me out of the way,” I say.

He nods, and is still shivering. 

“Let’s get you under some blankets,” I say.

Baz puts his yoga pants back on, and gets in bed. 

Being nervous about sharing a bed with Baz seems trivial now, so I just get in, giving him space. 

After twenty minutes, he’s still shivering, so I scoot to him so my chest is against his back. 

“Snow… What are you doing?”

“Trying to keep you warm. Do you want me to stop?”

“No,” he says quietly. 

I put an arm under his and put my hand on his chest. 

He stops shivering, and after he falls asleep, I drift off too. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Perchta when Simon says, "Mein kleiner Schwanz ist fähig!"
> 
> https://tenor.com/view/umm-confused-wtf-blinking-okay-gif-7513882


	11. The Tenth Day of Christmas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On the tenth day of Christmas Krampus gave to me: ten pipers piping, nine drummers drumming, eight maids a milking, seven swans a swimming, six geese a laying, five golden rings, four Colly birds, three French hens, two turtle doves, and a partridge in a peartree.

**Sunday, December 22nd**

I wake up with something in my mouth. 

I start coughing and I realize there’s something heavy on my chest.

“Being coughed on isn’t the most pleasant thing to be woken to,” Baz says sleepily, and rolls off me. 

Baz was on me?

Baz’s hair was in my mouth.

“Sorry for rolling on you,” Baz says like he’s a little angry at me for it. “It’s fucking cold and you’re like an oven; a very stupid, hopless oven,” baz says as he wipes the sleep from his eyes and stretches.

“Well that’s better than a toaster.”

“I’ll go make breakfast,” he says and leaves. 

I could have sworn I saw a flicker of that smile he gave me the night he drank and ate scones with me. That shy and adorable smile.

I go into the bathroom, brush my teeth and splash some cold water on my face. 

_Baz was on me._

But he is right. It is fucking cold. 

I look through a hundred of Baz’s drawers, some of which were weird (why does he need a drawer just weird toys and troll dolls), before I find one with sweaters. 

There’s some normal ones, but I pick out one with nutcracker soldiers on it because Baz will probably like it and he’s probably going to be upset about his wand.

When I leave Baz’s room, it really is fucking cold with the skylight broken. Some snow has piled up in the middle around the hole in the floor. 

When I get to the dining room, Baz is waiting with tea, and there’s scrambled eggs. 

“How’d you made this without electricity?” I ask. 

“We have a gas stove. It doesn’t need electricity.”

“Thank you,” I say and start eating them. They’re delicious as always. 

“There’s something I need to talk to you about,” Baz says in a serious tone.

“What?” I ask with a mouthful of scrambled egg.

“I’m not exactly sure how to break this to you, but you’re gay.”

“Oh, fuck off! I was just being nice! You were upset so-”

“No, no, no,” Baz says, cutting me off. “It’s not about that.”

“What the fuck is it about?”

“Those demons… They were succubi and incubi… I suspected they were succubi the first day they came, but I thought that had to be wrong because you weren’t affected by their power. Then you were affected by the incubi.”

“I can’t be gay,” I tell him. “I dated Agatha.”

“Yesterday you were less than an inch away from having your soul snogged out by an incubi.”

“How could I be gay and not know it?” I ask. 

“I have no idea what goes on in that void you call a brain.”

“I’m not gay.”

“Okay,” Baz says, frowning. “I just thought I should tell you.”

“Well, you were wrong.”

“There’s nothing wrong with being gay,” Baz says. 

“Why do you have a drawer filled with troll dolls?” I ask, changing the subject. 

“My aunt gives them to me. She says they’re retro. Why were you going through my stuff?”

“I was looking for something warm to wear.”

Baz nods. 

With nothing left to say, I continue eating my eggs. 

I can’t believe he’s still trying to fuck with me after last night. I thought we were friends now. 

I bet him rolling on me wasn’t an accident either. 

This is probably part of some elaborate plot. 

When I finish the eggs, he hands me a flashlight and says, “There’s a furnace in the basement that can heat the house without electricity. I need you to hold this while I try to get it working.”

I take it and follow him down. I don’t want to help him right now, but it is fucking cold. 

We go downstairs to the boiler room and I point the flashlight at it. 

Baz gets on his hands and knees to adjust some valves under the furnace. 

He looks ridiculous with his perfectly muscular arse in the air. 

You can see the flawless curves of it in those yoga pants. It’s like you can tell just from looking at it that if you touch it it would be both soft and firm.

…

_Merlin, I am gay._

“Snow? The light?”

“Sorry,” I say and bring the light back up after letting it drop a little too far. 

After he’s done, he gets up and lights the furnace. 

Baz shivers and rubs his arms. 

I want to wrap my arms around him to warm him up. 

I’m not just gay. I’m gay _and_ I fancy Baz. 

This is bad. 

“Come on, Snow. Lets light all the fireplaces to warm up the house and stop anything from coming down the chimneys,” he says.

“Yeah.”

I follow him around as he lights all of them. There’s a fireplace in every bedroom so it takes a while. 

I wish Baz didn’t tell me I’m gay. Now that I know, it’s all I can think about. And I don’t know what to do about it. 

I can’t tell him how I feel. Even if he didn’t light me on fire, it would still make being trapped in this house for another three days very awkward. 

Now that I know, I realize I’ve had a long list of things I’ve wanted to do to him that I didn’t know I had. 

1.) Run my fingers through his hair.

2.) Give him that kiss his mum asked me to give him.

3.) Give him more kisses that are just from me. 

4.) Kiss from his clavicle to his neck. 

5.) Feel what that perfect arse feels like in those yoga pants and maybe lift him up by it while he wraps his legs around my waist.

“What do you think?” Baz asks. 

“What?” I ask. 

“About putting bells on every entrance so we can hear where they come from.” 

“Oh. Yeah. That sounds good. What about the paint can thing from Home Alone?”

“That’s impractical. And extremely idiotic,” he says. 

“I think it could really work.”

“It could only take out one creature, and we’d need to know how tall it is and where it’s going to be,” he says. 

“I guess,” I relent. I still think it could be good. 

After that I follow him into the artifacts room so he can try out new wands. I think he’s really upset about his old wand but is trying not to show it. Which I’m thankful for because I don’t know how to comfort him anymore.

“Luckily,” Baz says, “being the only Pitch heir means I have a plethora of magical family artifacts I can still use.” (I guess plethora is a real word.)

That optimism disappears after trying to enlarge a sleighbell with the fifth wand. None of them are working. One wand actually made the bells smaller.

“ **_The bigger the better!_ **” he says, getting frustrated.

It’s not until the ninth wand that it works. The sleighbells get slightly bigger.

“Not as good as my old wand, but it’ll have to do,” he says, sounding forlorn. 

I wish I could comfort him like last night, but I can’t now. 

I follow Baz as he duplicates a bunch of sleighbells and hangs them at every entrance. 

When that’s done, he says, “We should shower.”

“ _We?_ ” I choke out.

“Yes. It’s been a few days. I’ll get you some fresh clothes. The water should be hot by now. Also, you should throw away those moldy clothes you left in the guest bathroom because I’m not going to fucking do it.”

“Right. Sorry,” I say. 

Baz goes upstairs and I go to the kitchen to grab a trash bag. 

When I get upstairs, there’s some folded clothes on the guest bathroom counter. It’s the same as the ones I’m wearing now. How many times did he duplicate these? 

I put the moldy stuff in the trash bag, then take a shower. 

When I’m done, I go into Baz’s room and start trying to put on my own armor. I put on my greaves then I put my breastplate on, but I’m struggling to reach the buckles on the sides. 

Baz comes out of the shower, fully clothed in new yoga pants and a V-neck, with wet hair combed back that I want to put my hands in and mess up.

“Let me help you with that,” he says, batting my hands away from the buckles. 

It’s hard not to stare at his face. At his neck. I look away into the fire. 

I don’t know how to act normal around him anymore. 

He buckles the breastplate then straps on my pauldrons for me.

He stands there for a moment while I’m making heavy eye contact with the fire. 

“Are you still upset about what we talked about at breakfast?” he asks. 

“Uhh- Well- I don’t know,” I say. It’s hard to think.

“I could have been wrong,” he says.

“No,” I admit, finally looking at him. “You weren’t.”

He puts a hand on my shoulder and asks, “Did you really not know?”

I shake my head. 

“Crowley, Snow…”

“Can we not talk about it?” I ask. 

I don’t know how to have ‘the gay talk’ with my enemy crush.

He starts putting on his own armor and says, “Okay. But if you change your mind, you have my word, I won’t mock you.”

I scoff at that. I have to help him with a few buckles then I put on his pauldrons. If he only knew the thoughts going on in my head, he’d recoil from me.

He would mock me then light me on fire. 

Luckily for most of the day, we didn’t have a lot of opportunities to talk again.

Aside from the tree, not much went as planned. 

The perytons fluttered through the skylight, so the bells didn’t tip us off. Then they caught us off guard so it wasn’t the easiest fight, but we pulled through like always.

When that was over and Baz needed to feed, I watched Frozen one last time using the last of the laptops battery supply.

The cockatrice came in the same way as the perytons. I had to make it rain in the whole house again because Baz’s dad’s office, which is at the back of the artifacts room, was completely on fire and Baz couldn’t put it out because his wand hates him.

After Baz and I managed to kill them, we spent all our free time drying the house. When it was time to dry the library and Baz had to get on my shoulders, he had to keep reminding me to walk forward because I was so focused on trying not to think about the fact that my head was between his thighs. 

The Strix did trigger some bells so we had a bit of a jump on them. They came in through the cellar doors so we fought them in the basement. It doesn’t have high ceilings so their wings did them no good, and there aren’t any windows so it was dark and they weren’t able to see as well as Baz. Baz is like an unstoppable force of nature. Perfect at everything he does. 

After that, Baz and I spent some time putting kerosene lamps around the house. There’s even hooks on the walls for them. Apparently the Pitches used to light the house this way before they had electricity. 

The minotaur also triggered bells. It came in through Baz’s parents’ window. We aren’t sure how. But once we knew he was upstairs, we knew the only way down was the stairs. So while he was tiptoeing around up there, we wheeled the ballista into the stairs room, and as soon as he was at the top of the stairs, we fired, pinning him to the ceiling outside of Baz’s room.

Perchta came in through the skylight again, not triggering any bells. Baz didn’t give me any new lines to distract her. He just told me to kill the geese this time, and he fought her. I killed them as fast as I could, but he’s going to have some bruising. He got beat up pretty badly. He’s had worse though. 

After putting our helmets on, we’re pretty much invulnerable to the harpies so when they came in through the library windows, it was just a matter of waiting for them to get close enough to hack or slash.

By the time that’s over, we’re exhausted. I’m slumped on a couch in the library, and Baz disappears for a few minutes and returns with a box of ginger biscuits, a couple bags of salt and vinegar crisps, and a Tizer. 

“I thought all the premade food got ruined by the cockatrice last week,” I say. 

“There was another pantry in the basement.”

I chug the Tizer then dig into the ginger biscuits. 

“So,” Baz says, “I was thinking when the incubi get here, maybe you should hide and let me deal with them.”

“No. There’s eight of them. That’d be ridiculous.” 

“All they have to do is make eye contact with you and they’ll entrance you. It’d be easier to fight them alone.”

“I just won’t look at their faces,” I say. 

“How are you going to fight them without looking at their faces?”

“I’ll just watch their bodies,” I say. 

“You just figured out you’re gay, and your plan to defeat fit demons, that are designed to seduce, is to watch their bodies?”

“Shut up,” I mutter and eat another ginger biscuit. 

“Snow, I’m serious. There’s going to be eight of them, wearing almost nothing, all trying to trick you into looking at them. If I wasn’t fast enough yesterday, that one would have killed you.”

“I’ll be fine,” I insist. 

Baz doesn’t try to argue any further. 

He just eats his crisps, holding a hand over his mouth to cover up his adorable fangs. His stupid gorgeous ridiculous sexy fangs. 

I huff and look away. Might as well practice not getting seduced now. 

After we’ve eaten all the biscuits and crisps, and seven o’clock comes up, we hear bells jingle from upstairs. 

We wait in the stairs room for them to come out, but nothing happens. 

“Let’s go up,” I say.

“They’re probably waiting to ambush us,” Baz says. 

“Well, we can’t wait down here forever,” I say. 

Then behind us, in a thick accent, someone says, “Playing hard to get?”

We turn around and there’s four of them. 

I look down and see one has a mace, one has a sword, and the other two have whips. I also see bare chests with chiseled abs. Most of them are wearing tight leather pants, but one just has a loin cloth, showing off his perfect hips.

“We’re willing to play hard,” one says, as they walk up to us. 

The others chuckle, and one calmly says, “Lat're uf ta. Snaag.”

We back up the stairs. 

When we’re about halfway up the stairs, I bump into something, and when I turn around and look up, I see yellow eyes flash. 

Immediately I feel the haze. It feels good. I feel like I’m not alone anymore. 

But then I remember I wasn’t totally alone. Baz is my friend. 

Then the haze disperses, and I look at Baz, and he pushes me off the stairs. 

As I’m falling I see a few incubi about to attack Baz, so I point my wand at them, yell, “ **_Fus ro dah!_ **” and see them hit the wall so hard it looks like their skulls might have exploded.

There’s a sharp pain then everything goes black. 

I wake up and see the Elf on a Shelf. What the fuck are you doing here, elf?

After my eyes focus I realize it’s on Baz’s nightstand and I’m in his bed.

I sit up, heart racing, and ask, “What happened? What time is it?”

“The incubi are dead. It’s 7:25. We have thirty-five minutes before the gremlins come.”

I calm down a bit from the news, but then I say, “You pushed me down the fucking stairs again.”

“No. I pushed you _off_ the stairs. It was completely different.”

“I was unconscious!” I complain too loudly. 

“You weren’t going to fall that far. But then you **Fus ro dah’ed** and splattered some incubi skulls, and propelled yourself in the opposite direction. You made it all the way to the other staircase and broke the arm off the lady statue.”

“Oops. Sorry,” I say, feeling bad. 

“At least you didn’t fall down the hole.”

“How many did you have to kill?” I ask.

“Four. I was a little nervous when I had whips wrapped around each wrist. But I’m stronger than them and was able to pull them by it. I even strangled one with it. It was a whole thing,” Baz says, being vague about it.

“Are all the fireplaces still lit?” I ask. 

“Yes.”

“Did you hide the nailgun?” I ask.

“... No.”

“We should probably do that now,” I say getting up. 

“Agreed.” 

We go downstairs and Baz uses the nailgun to permanently close that small closet he was locked in, then he hides it in the oven. 

I kinda want to ask how he ended up in the closet yesterday. I would ask him, but I don’t think he’d want to recount being bested by a gremlin. 

Walking around the house lit by the kerosene lamps makes me nervous considering how flammable Baz is. But his skin glows beautifully in the light. 

We also take all the water out of the toilets which, thank Merlin, **bone dry** works on them and we didn’t have to do it by hand, so the gremlins can’t jump in. Then we cast **righty tighty** on all the faucets. It will make it more difficult for them to turn the water on. 

Shortly after we finish, it’s eight o’clock. 

We hear the drumming, then after a moment there’s squealing from all over the house. 

Did they really all come down the chimney again?

“Should I make it rain?” I ask. 

“No. They should krisp up before reaching anything flammable. 

Then sleighbells ring all across the house. They don’t just jingle once. They ring constantly. 

We go towards the nearest one, and find a gremlin erratically shaking the bells. 

When it sees us, it growls and runs away with the bells. 

I try to swipe at it with my sword as it runs past me, into the kitchen but it ducked.

Luckily, it’s not hard to find. We just run toward the jingling until we have it cornered in the dining room, then Baz takes off its head, splattering green blood all over the walls. 

“How many do you think are left?” I ask, still hearing distant jingling. 

“At least two,” he says, and we make our way to the other side of the house. 

When we get to the stairs room, the bells are definitely coming from upstairs, so we start going up. Halfway up the staircase, the bells go quiet. We look at each other, then run up the rest of the stairs to find one gremlin on the others shoulders trying to reach a kerosene lamp.

I point my wand at them and yell, “ **_Fus ro dah!_ **” 

They go flying back and hit Finoa’s door, but so does the lamp. 

The gremlins and door burst into flames. 

The gremlins scream and Baz and I both shout, “ **_Make a wish!_ **”

I’m about to do it when Baz says, “ _Do not_ cast **raining cats and dogs**.”

I run into the bathroom and put a towel in the bathtub and when I try to turn on the water it’s stuck. Then I remember and cast, “ **_Lefty loosey!_ **” on it and get the towel wet.

I run back into the hallway and start beating the fire with the towel. Eventually the flames die down enough to to point where it goes out when Baz casts, “ **_Make a wish!_ **” again.

“This wand is rubbish,” Baz says, glaring at it. 

“Maybe you’ll get used to it and it’ll get better over time,” I say, still panting from putting out the fire. The whole archway is charred now. 

“Maybe,” Baz says, and sighs. 

He turns around and starts going down the stairs.

“Where are you going?” I ask, following him. 

“Going to make hot chocolate,” he says. 

We walk back to the kitchen and he put some milk in a pot on the stove.

I sit on a stool, put my arms on the counter and rest my head. The dim lights are making me sleepy.

“Am I tired because I hit my head or has today just been really long?” I ask, with my arms muffling my voice. 

“The day has been long. And it will be for two more days if we make it that far.”

I lift my head, sigh then ask, “How am I supposed to tell Penny and Agatha I’m gay?”

“You say, ‘Bunce. Wellbelove. I’m gay.’”

“Shut up. You know what I mean. How’s that going to make Agatha feel since we dated? And what if it upsets Penny?”

“I don’t think Bunce will have an issue with it,” Baz says.

“She’s always complaining about her gay roommate.”

“It’s because her roommate is a Pixie. Not because she’s gay. How would you like it if I invited my boyfriend for sleepovers in our room?” Baz asks. 

“You have a boyfriend?” The idea immediately makes me jealous. But if was true, it’d mean he’s gay and I had a chance. But I guess it would mean he has a boyfriend, so I wouldn’t. 

“No, nitwit. I’m trying to put you in Bunce’s shoes. Bunce doesn’t have a problem with gay people. You’ll still be friends, same as now. And Wellbelove will get over it eventually. Probably.”

Baz hands me a mug and I drink from it. It somehow tops the hot chocolate he made last time. 

Then he puts a bottle of peppermint schnapps on the table and slides it my way. 

I guess if the wine the other day was fine, this would be too.

I pour a little bit in, then Baz does the same with his mug.

Baz clinks his mug against mine and says, “To queerness!” 

“You promised you wouldn’t mock,” I say. 

“I’m not mocking. I’m celebrating. It’s not like you have a family line people expect you to propagate.”

I growl. 

I want to throw my drink in his face and tell him to go fuck himself, but right before a big fight isn’t a good time to get into it with him. 

I just chug my hot chocolate and don’t say anything. 

I set my mug down, take the schnapps and leave. Baz doesn’t say anything. 

I go into the library and sit on the floor in front of the fire and take sips from the bottle. I don’t want to get drunk before this fight, but I want to feel better. Maybe there’s an inebriation sweet spot. An alcoholic line I can toe. 

When I feel warm all over (which I guess could be from the fire) and my face feels a little numb, I stop. 

After a while of staring into the fire, Baz comes in and says, “It’s almost time.”

I get up and I stumble a little.

“Are you fucking drunk?” Baz asks.

“No, I’m not. Not that it’s any of your business.”

“It is my business when we’re about to be fighting for our lives.”

“Well, I’m not drunk,” I say.

 _Deck the Halls_ rings. It startles both of us. 

We walk into the foyer and Baz looks through the peephole.

“Is it an army?” I ask. 

“It’s just a satyr.”

There’s loud banging on the ceiling from us taking too long to answer the door. Krampus howls and it sounds terrifying. 

“Let him in,” I say. I don’t want to find out what happens if we don’t. 

I ready my sword and Baz opens the door and a man with goat legs, horns and a flute walks in.

Before he can say anything, I charge him with my sword, and then he plays a simple melody on his flute and I’m frozen in place. 

I’m stuck, standing with my sword over my shoulder ready to swing, but unable to.

Then the satyr plays a loud note on his flue and Baz and I go flying back. 

We get back up, then the satyr starts playing a more complex song, and I suddenly feel angry. 

I look at Baz and he fucking sneers at me. I growl back.

“What are you sneering at?” I demand. 

“You, you idiotic nightmare!” 

“I’m the nightmare? You say I’m a guest in your house then you treat me like an invalid, cooking all my meals, dressing me like a doll and you constantly berate me.”  
  
“I treat you like an invalid because you are one. Plus I figured you get berated at those care homes and I wanted to make you feel at home.”

“Like you know anything about care homes. You grew up in a fucking mansion, you spoiled git,” I yell. 

“You’re right. I don’t know anything about care homes because I have a family that didn’t abandon me.”

I feel my hand tighten around the hilt of my sword. 

“Your parents probably took one look at you and knew you were a nightmare and a fuckup and cast you aside like the rubbish you are,” Baz says. 

“Your mum killed herself instead of becoming a monster like you!”

“Snow, I’m about to fucking kill you and it’s exactly what he wants,” Baz says and walks up to me menacingly. 

I swing my sword at him and he blocks it with his.

“Resist it, you sorry excuse of a mage,” he says and shoves me back. 

When he comes back at me, I swing my sword at him again and he blocks it with his.

“You’re so daft you didn’t even know you were gay but you’re infuriatingly headstrong. Be strong, moron. Fight it, not me.”

I’m breathing heavily, I feel sweat on my face, and I’m seeing red, but I put my sword away.

Baz turns to face the satyr, then the song changes. 

I fall over and my stomach feels like a void. It feels like I haven’t eaten in weeks and I’ll die if I don’t eat immediately. 

I’m about to crawl to the kitchen and eat all the fruitcakes when I hear Baz growl, “Simon… Leave…”

I look at him and his mouth is full of white knives. It’s more than just the two cute fangs he had before.

He staggers forward a couple steps, looking at me. Then he looks at the satyr and he pounces halfway across the foyer, onto the satyr and rips his throat out with his teeth.

The second the song stops, the hunger goes away and Baz starts spitting out all the satyr flesh and blood. 

“Baz… What I said-“

“It doesn’t matter,” he says and stalks off. 

I follow him into one of the downstairs bathrooms and he starts rinsing his mouth out in the sink.

“Does it taste bad?” I ask. 

“No.”

When he seems satisfied with the blood washed out of his mouth and off his face, he stalks back into the foyer and I trot along beside him to keep up. 

He inspects the satyr then picks up the flute. 

“Krampus didn’t send ten pipers piping one pipe. He sent one piper piping ten pipes,” Baz says. 

“What?”

“It’s a ten piped flute.”

“Oh,” is all I can think of to say. 

“This is good. Less things we have to fight.”

“Maybe the twelfth day will be one lord leaping twelve times,” I say. 

“Snow. I regret most of what I said to you, but I will not take back calling you daft.”

I growl, but then he bumps my shoulder with his and somehow that makes me feel better. 

I guess, coming from him, that was an apology.

It takes him a few tries with his new wand but eventually Baz turns the satyr to ash and we sweep it outside. 

“Help me out of this armor, would you?” Baz asks, as he walks into the library and stops near a couch. 

I take off his pauldrons, then breastplate. He takes off his own gauntlets. Then I sit on the couch to unbuckle his grieves. 

When I reach my hand out to high inner thigh, my hand trembles a bit. 

Now that I know I want him, it’s hard to be so close to him without thinking about it.

I quickly unbuckle him so he doesn’t know anything is wrong, then he starts taking my armor off. 

To take my mind off this, I focus on tactics. 

“I think the bells did help a bit, but when I said we should up our game, I didn’t mean just bells. I think we should put up traps. Like break some tree ornaments by the entrances and stuff.”

“I think I have something better than ornaments,” Baz says. 

“Oh?”

“Do you know what a caltrop is?” he asks. 

I shake my head.

He finishes taking off my armor, and part of me wishes there was more we could take off, then he walks off and I follow. 

He goes into the artifacts room and in a display case there’s a few weird barbed spike things. Baz takes one out and hands it to me. That’s all it is. Four barbed spikes connected. 

“Have you ever stepped on a Lego?” Baz asks.

I shake my head. 

“Well, this is a million times worse than that. It’s worse than the nail in Home Alone.”

“I bet,” I say looking at it. “We wouldn’t even have to trick them into taking off their shoes with these. Do you have any other tricks up your sleeve?” I ask.

“More tricks than caltrops and a ballista?” Baz asks. 

“Yeah,” I say, tossing the caltrop back into the display case.

“Maybe. But we should get some rest now. We’ll figure it out in the morning.”

I follow him up to his room and as he pulls the blanket back to get in bed, I say, “I think I should sleep on the couch.”

“We’ve been over this. The couch hurts your neck and you’re even more useless if you can’t use your neck.”

“I just don’t think you want me in bed with you in light of recent events,” I say.

“Just get in.”

I do, but then say, “I’d totally understand if you didn’t want me in your bed.”

“Snow, being gay isn’t a big deal,” Baz says and rolls on his side, away from me. 

“Yeah, but it’s one thing to be okay with gay people. It’s another to share your bed with someone gay.”

“Snow. Being gay is perfectly fine and normal. I’m gay. So stop complaining about it and go to sleep.”

What?

Baz is gay?

Baz is gay. I’m gay. And we’re in bed together. 

How has he been acting so cool about this? He’s known since last night. 

Oh.

He doesn’t care because he has no interest in me. Of course he doesn’t. Why would he? 

I hear his soft rhythmic breathing and know he’s asleep now. 

Baz has been telling me I’m pathetic for years. I guess it shouldn't surprise me that he never had an interest in me.

But it still feels like a punch to the chest. 

Knowing he’s not interested in me because he’s straight sucks. But knowing he’s not interested in me because he just doesn’t like me hurts. 

I don’t even realize I’m crying until I taste salt. 

I start hearing his words, “ _Your parents probably took one look at you and knew you were a nightmare and a fuckup and cast you aside like the rubbish you are_ ,” over and over. 

A sob escapes my throat and I realize I need to get out of here.

I go downstairs and into the TV room. 

I get on the couch with a blanket. All I can hear is Baz's insults filling my head in his voice. A never ending bombardment of how worthless I am.

_“Useless!”_

_“Imbecile!”_

_“Worst Chosen One who’s ever been chosen!”_

_“Invalid!”_

_“Idiotic nightmare!”_

I put my face in a pillow and sob loudly into it. 

Of course he could never love me. All I do is ruin his life. I’m The Mage’s heir and The Mage took away his family’s power and is going to war with them. I’ve fucked up his whole house with one visit. 

I knew this holiday was going to be bad, but I never imagined it being this bad. 

I somehow ended up more alone than I started. 

All I hear is, “ _nightmare and a fuckup_ ,” on a loop, then I eventually fall asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I said before I'd be posting chapter 12 on time, but things didn't go according to plan, so this is the last chapter I have right now. I will finish the story but I'm going to take a break. I've been working on this every day for two months and I'm out of steam. I do know what's going to happen so it will get finished. I'm just not sure when. 
> 
> Thank you to everyone who has been reading this story and happy Christmas.


	12. The Eleventh Day of Christmas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On the eleventh day of Christmas Krampus gave to me: eleven ladies dancing, ten pipers piping, nine drummers drumming, eight maids a milking, seven swans a swimming, six geese a laying, five golden rings, four Colly birds, three French hens, two turtle doves, and a partridge in a peartree.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want to remind you that this is a mature rated fic and to check the tags and archive warnings.

**Monday, December 23rd**  
  
  
I jerk awake to Baz saying, “Where were you? I was cold.”

I sniff and my nose is stuffy.

“Are you sick again?” Baz asks.

I sit up and Baz, in a serious voice, asks, “What happened?” 

“Nothing,” I lie. 

“Simon. Your eyes are red and puffy. Clearly something is wrong.”

“It’s not your problem.”

“I don’t care if it’s not my problem. I want to know.”

“No, you don’t.”

Baz sits next to me and wraps an arm around me, leaning his head on me but not looking at me.

“What is it, Simon?”

“My future was Agatha. She broke up with me but I thought we would get back together eventually. But now I have no one. There’s no future for me.”

“You have Bunce,” Baz says. 

I shake my head. “She’ll eventually get married and move to America.”

“You have me,” Baz says softly. 

“What?” I whisper. 

“We’re going to have to kill each other one day, but until then…” Baz trails off. 

I’m not sure what he’s suggesting so I ask. “Until then, what?”

“If it doesn’t involve my family or The Mage, I’ll have your back.”

I turn and hug him. 

Friends. That’s something. More than nothing. That’s all I needed. 

I hated being enemies. 

“Come on, Snow. Let’s get you some breakfast,” he says. 

We both walk to the kitchen and Baz stops before the mistletoe to let me through.

I stop under it and look up at it. Then I look at Baz. 

Baz looks from me to the mistletoe, confused for a moment, then takes a tentative step forward.

I don’t move away. 

Baz walks up to me, puts a hand on the back of my head and kisses me.

I put my hands on his waist and pull him closer and he runs his fingers through my curls. 

The effects from the mistletoe wears off and we keep kissing. Just like those gremlins. 

We both decide to deepen the kiss at the same time and after a moment of the best kiss I’ve ever had our teeth clink and we both pull back a little and giggle. Baz pushes his forehead against mine then kisses my nose.

“As much as I want to do more of this, we have stuff to do,” Baz says, not taking his hand out of my hair. “How do you want your eggs?”

“Scrambled,” is all I can say. It’s hard to think with his hands on me. 

He kisses my forehead then goes into the kitchen and gets out eggs and a pan. 

“Wait for me in the dining room,” he says. 

I don’t want to wait for him. I want to watch him. But I go. 

I wait for him and the moment he comes in, I take the plate from him, set it on the table, push him against the wall and start kissing him. 

Kissing him feels amazing. Why haven’t we been doing this all along?

I pin his wrists to the wall, then my kisses trail from his mouth, across his face, and down his neck to his clavicle.

His breathing is uneven and he says, “Your eggs will get cold.”

I nuzzle into his neck and say, “I don’t mind cold things,” referring to his skin, which is always cold. 

I can hear the smile in his voice when he says, “Snow. We have things to do. Traps to set up.”

“You called me Simon before,” I say then suck on his neck. 

His breathing shallows and he says, “No I didn’t.”

“You did. Do it again.”

He exhales, “Simon,” as I continue to suck on his neck.

Hearing him say my name like that sends a shiver down my spine. 

I let go of his wrist with my right hand so I can use it to tilt his head down. I kiss him on the lips then slide my tongue in. I feel like no matter how close to him I am, it isn’t close enough.

My tongue glides over his teeth. I wonder where his fangs go when he isn’t using them.

Baz puts his free hand on my chest and slowly runs it up to my shoulder, then pushes me away far enough that my mouth is just out of reach from his. 

“Eat your breakfast. There’ll be time later if we survive,” he says. 

It’s effort not to whine, but I don’t. I quickly lick his mouth before he can stop me, then go sit at the table.

I eat the eggs and Baz sits on the other side of the corner of the table, grinning at me.

“What?” I ask, mouthful of eggs. 

“You eat like a mongrel dog.”

“Thanks,” I say. 

“A mongrel dog I’d like to slip the tongue.”

“Eww,” I say, and he leans over and kisses me. 

When I finish eating, we go to the artifacts room to get the caltrops. Baz brought a bucket for them. We put them in the bucket and Baz casts, “ **_The more, the merrier!_ **” on them and an extra four appear.

Baz frowns at his wand, then I try. “ **_The more, the merrier!_ **” 

The whole bucket fills up and it starts spilling over. 

The caltrops gush out of the bucket like a geyser. 

“ _Do not_ move,” Baz says.

We are completely surrounded by them.

“I have an idea,” I say.

“No-”

“ **_Fus ro dah!_ **”

The caltrops shoot forward, making a path for us, peppering the walls, ruining everything. 

“You are a nightmare,” Baz says, and glares at me. 

“I cleared us a path,” I say. 

“I should have never shown you Skyrim.”

“I’ll get a broom to sweep away the extras,” I say. 

“No,” Baz says. “Do not move an inch. I’ll get the broom.”

He leaves and comes back with a push broom. He sweeps everything that’s not embedded in a wall into his dad’s office at the other end of the artifacts room. 

When that’s done, we get to work placing the rest. 

We place a bunch on the right staircase, some at the backdoor entrance, the cellar entrance and scatter them around all the bedrooms except Baz’s, Fiona’s and the guest room. 

“I was thinking we could put mirrors on all the doors, so if a cockatrice is chasing us, we just have to close a door in it’s face and it’ll turn to stone,” I say. 

“That’s the first decent idea you’ve had,” Baz says and goes into the downstairs bathroom and prys off the framed mirror.

I get out my wand and start to cast when Baz slaps it out of my hand.

“Oi!” I yell.

“No more casting spells. Just stick to your sword.”

I pick my wand back up, and Baz takes out his and casts “ **_The more the merrier!_ **” like seven times then he makes me carry them around even though they’re heavy as hell and he has vampire strength. 

He starts with the foyer doors. He gets on his hands and knees with the nailgun and attaches the mirrors at cockatrice height on the front and back. We do this for every door in the house and it takes over an hour. 

On the last one, I’m still a little ticked off about him slapping my wand out of my hand and I’ve had to stand here staring at his arse for an hour, so while he’s bent over affixing the mirror, I give his arse a slap. 

He falls forward and faceplants into the mirror, cracking it.

“Oops.”

Baz stands up and walks toward me. I back up until I hit a wall, but Baz keeps coming until he’s an inch from my face. I instinctively put my hands on his shoulders to push him away, but he grabs me by the wrists and pins them to the wall like I had done to him before breakfast. 

Baz pushes his thigh between my legs and the pressure against my groin makes me let out a small moan.

He puts his mouth to my ear and says, “If you keep misbehaving, I’m going to have to punish you.”

He grinds his thigh a little and my breath hitches. I’m starting to get hard. 

Then _Deck the Halls_ rings.

“Saved by the bell,” Baz whispers in my ear, and releases me. I whine. 

When we open the door for the tree, Baz throws his fireball, and I “ **_Fus ro dah!_ ** ” before he has a chance to cast **dead in the air** , and the bird explodes.

“Now, where were we?” I ask as I shut the door.

“We were about to set up trip wires,” Baz says. 

“No we weren’t,” I say and push him against the door and kiss him. 

He kisses back and I run my fingers through his hair. He puts his hands on my sides and slides them down to my hips. I grind against him a little then he slaps my arse. Hard. 

“Oww.”

“If we survive today and tomorrow we will have all the time in the world. Would you rather have an hour of fun now or the rest of your life?” Baz asks, surprisingly softly. 

“A bird in the hand is worth two in the bush?”

“I can’t believe now is the one time you get a proverb right,” Baz says, and gives me a final kiss, before dragging me to the library to get our armor on. 

He starts strapping all the pieces on me unceremoniously. When he’s done I help him into his. 

I can’t believe it’s going to be another ten hours before we get to take this off. It’s like waiting for freshly baked scones to cool. I know I’ve only known I fancied him for about a day, but in hindsight, it’s been a lot longer than that. So, after all this time I finally get what I want and now I have to wait. 

This is probably easier for Baz. He probably didn’t even think of me like that until the incubi came. And that was only Saturday. Merlin. Maybe he didn’t even think of me like that until this morning. 

What are we now? I didn’t think about it until now. Friends with benefits? 

The thought makes me frown.

“Come on, Snow. There’s some supplies in the basement we can use,” he says, getting up after putting his gauntlets on. 

I follow him down into a room filled with random supplies. (Also the Elf on a Shelf is in here for some reason. That thing is seriously starting to give me the creeps.) He picks up some spools of wire. 

I look around and see assortments of tools and chains, and rope.

I point to it and say, “kinky.” Baz raises an eyebrow.

We’re about to go back upstairs when I see mouse traps, and I say, “These could be useful.”

“How? They’re for killing small rodents.”

I point my wand at one and say, “ **_The bigger the better!_ **” and it grows way larger than I meant for it to. It falls off the table it was on and is as big as a table. 

Baz sets the wire down and says, “I have the perfect idea for this. Help me move it.”

It’s heavier than a table and Baz has me take it to the crater under the hole in the floor. Once it’s there, we rig it to go off.

“Do we need to put cheese on it?” I ask.

Baz just shakes his head. 

Baz goes back to the mouse traps and casts “ **_The more the merrier!_ ** ” a few times then casts, “ **_The bigger the better!_ **” making them grow to about two feet long. 

We go back upstairs and Baz starts putting up tripwires. 

“Are you going to remember where these are?” he asks, putting one up about a foot away from the mistletoe. 

“I think I can manage.”

“Before we put the next one up,” Baz says, “I have an idea.”

“What is it?”

“I’m going to need you to do something tricky without fucking it up. Can you not be a fuck up for a few minutes?”

I backhand his breastplate lightly. 

“That wasn’t a yes,” Baz says.

“I can try.”

We walk down the hall to the ballista and he says, “Help me move it.”

We push it down the hall into the stairs room and then he says, “I need you to **up, up and away** it so we can put it in Fiona’s room.”

“What? Why?”

“I can rig it to go off on anyone who opens the door.”

“Actually, that sounds really cool. Let’s do that,” I say. 

Baz goes upstairs and I cast, “ **_Up, up and away!_ **” and focus really hard on not dropping it and not slamming it into the ceiling.

When it is level with the second floor, Baz pulls it onto the landing and it goes surprisingly smoothly. 

“So, you aren’t an _absolute_ fuck up. Well done, Snow,” Baz says. 

I go up and help him wheel it into her room. We have to push her bed aside to make room for it. Then he uses the wire to rig it to the door and after we close it behind us, he says, “I would threaten you not to forget that’s there, but if you forget, you die. So, instead, I promise if you don’t forget, I’ll make it worth your while.” Then he gives me a smile that makes me forget to breathe for a moment.

Vampires are definitely more seductive than Incubi.

Baz walks away and after a moment my brain starts working again and I follow him. On the staircase that isn’t covered in caltrops, he puts a tripwire at the top. 

“I won’t spell you better if you forget this is here so don’t forget it,” Baz says.

Then perytons soar in through the broken skylight and screeches. It startles Baz and he takes a step to the side, trips over the tripwire and starts tumbling down the stairs. 

I step over the wire and chase down after him. Then so do the perytons. 

We’re all going down the stairs in a mad flurry and I hack at one of the birds in front of me and it goes down.

Then Baz’s antler dagger goes whizzing past my face, narrowly missing me.

“Oi! No throwing while falling!” I yell. 

When we all get to the bottom, the peryton jumps on Baz, but I stab it before it can do anything.

I push the bird off of him, and he’s laying there limply and says, “Oww.”

“Alright?” I ask. 

“If we live to recount these events, the peryton pushed me.”

“Yeah. That’s totally what I saw,” I say, smiling, and give him a hand up.

“Shut up,” Baz says. 

“I wasn’t gonna say anything. But really. Are you alright?”

“Yeah. My arse and neck broke my fall.”

“I could rub it for you,” I offer. 

Baz raises an eyebrow.

“Your neck, I meant… Although…”

“Unnecessary,” Baz says, and goes to get his antler dagger. He goes up the stairs and it’s in the skull of the other peryton.

“I thought I killed that one,” I say. 

Baz shakes his head and says, “It got up and started flying at you.”

“Thanks. I don’t know how you managed to aim while falling, but thanks. I wish we had this on video. I bet it’d go viral on YouTube.”

“Even if we did have it on video, and even if we were acknowledging what happened at the top of the stairs, which we’re not because it didn’t happen, you can’t put videos of perytons on YouTube.”

“Well, it would if we could.”

“Go make some scones while I feed,” Baz says.

“By myself?” I ask. 

“You’re a big boy,” Baz mocks.

“Say that again. But slower. And more sultry.”

Baz glares at me and I laugh as I start walking toward the kitchen.

I almost forget the tripwire there, and remember just in time to go through the dining room then into the kitchen. 

I get out all the ingredients and make the dough.

I realize I forgot to turn on the oven so I do that. Except it doesn’t turn on. Fuck. This doesn’t work with the power out.

Baz said the stove still works. Maybe I can make these on that.

I turn the knob to turn on the stove but nothing happens. After a minute the room starts smelling weird. 

Baz walks in and says, “Why are you trying to blow up the kitchen?”

“What?” I ask. 

Baz walks around me and turns the knob off and says, “You filled the room with gas. Can’t you smell it?”

“Yeah. Is that not normal?”

“No, it’s not. Also, why’d you make the batter when the oven doesn’t work?” 

“You knew the oven doesn’t work?” I ask. 

“Yes. I just wanted you to go away for a few minutes. I figured you’d see the oven doesn’t work and just wait for me.”

I frown at the batter, then Baz kisses my temple and says, “We might still be able to use it. You were on to something with the stove.”

Baz gets out a waffle iron, sprays it with something, then presses the dough in. He turns the knob for the stove back on and throws a cute little fireball, the size of a marble, at the burner and it ignites. 

After several minutes, Baz takes it off the fire and it smells amazing.

Baz opens the iron and says, “It looks like we did it. We made the first ever scone-waffle.”

“Scaffle.”

Baz puts it on a plate then gets out the jam. He spreads it over the scaffle then puts the spoon in my face. 

I open my mouth and he slides it in. I close my lips around it, and he slowly pulls it out. This jam is so good. 

When I look at Baz, I realize he’s watching unblinkingly with his lips slightly parted. When I smile at him, he blinks and looks like he was snapped out of whatever thought he was having. 

He gets out forks and knives and hands me some. I cut a piece and eat it.

“This isn’t the best scone I’ve ever had, but it’s the best waffle,” I say.

“No, Snow. It’s the best scaffle we’ve both ever had.”

Baz scoops some jam out with his finger and boops my noses with it.

“Oi!” I say, and use a tea towel to wipe it off. 

He tries to do it again, so I snatch his hand and put his finger in my mouth to suck the jam off. When my eyes flicker to Baz’s face, he’s giving me that look again. Not blinking and lips parted. So I keep sucking even after the jam is gone. I slowly and slightly bob my head back and forth on it.

“Snow…” Baz says, having a hard time getting the words out. “I’m going to need you to stop before I dent my armor.”

I stop and feel my cheeks heat up.

When we finish the scaffle and put the jam away, I ask, “Can you let me handle the cockatrice alone?”

Before he answers I ask, “Do you need to breathe? Can we just fill up a bathtub and leave you in it?”

“Yes, Snow. I need to breathe… But I’ll try to make myself scarce. As long as you wear a hat or helmet to keep your hair from getting singed.”

“Deal.”

We go back to the basement to get nets. We use the nailgun to put them in front of all the windows to catch harpies.

Then Baz uses the nailgun to nail the doors to all the extra bedrooms shut.

When we’re done with that, Baz gives me that Christmas themed trapper hat, and goes into his room while I wait in the library.

I know it’s two o’clock when I hear glass break in the foyer, followed by a “ _Brahaaaahk!_ ”

I run into the room and the sheet covering the window is in flames.

I “ **_Make a wish!_ **” and it works!

“ _Brahaaaahk!_ ”

They breathe fire and start chasing me. I run out of the foyer, slamming one of the doors closed behind me. I go left, and can’t stop to look to see if it worked on any of them because I’m still being chased. 

I run into the dining room and slam that door behind me. I wait a minute to listen if there’s still any alive.

I can’t hear anything so I open the door and there’s two cockatrice statues there.

I go to the foyer and sure enough, the third one is there.

I go to the stairs room and yell, “You can come out now, Baz!”

I could be wrong, but as Baz is about to come downstairs, I could swear he almost forgot about the tripwire. _Almost._

“So, did it work?” Baz asks.

“Like a charm.”

Baz fixes the widow and we don’t bother to get new sheets to cover it again. 

Baz makes more tea and we drink it in the dining room.

I’ve watched Baz drink tea thousands of times probably, but I never noticed how pleasant it is. Watching him drink tea is like watching a butterfly flutter around. It’s so pretty and elegant. 

I want to pounce on him right now, but I don’t want to get in the way of his sugar and caffeine fix. I’m not sure if copious amounts of sugar and caffeine is a vampire thing or a Baz thing, but I don’t want to deny him of anything.

I want to do the opposite of deny him things. Allow? Give?

Baz goes into the kitchen to do dishes and I go wait for him in the library.

When Baz comes in with more tea, I ask, “How’s your neck?”

He sits on the couch next to me and says, “it’s been worse before.”

I take off my gauntlets and brush his hair back and start kissing it. “Anything I can do to make it better?”

“Just keep kissing it better. I think it’s working,” he says, tilting his head back to give me more access. 

I keep kissing, then I lick up his throat and kiss across his jaw until I get to his ear, then I start nibbling it.

“Slow down, Snow,” Baz says, pushing me back a bit. 

Does he not want this? He knew what he was doing when he stepped under the mistletoe with me, but maybe he just wanted a quick snog on impulse and doesn’t really want this at all.

“Why?” I ask after an awkward silence. 

“I don’t want you rushing into anything. You only found out you were gay yesterday. You could regret everything tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow? There might not even be a tomorrow for us. We haven’t even talked about the eleven ladies dancing. _Eleven_. Those aren’t good odds.”

“It could be one lady dancing eleven times,” Baz says and nudges my shoulder. 

“Or it could be something entirely different. We don’t even know. And even if we make it to tomorrow, it’s all that and more. Right now is the only time I know we have.”

“Simon,” Baz says, taking his gauntlets off and taking my hands. “You have to carry on like you will. Otherwise you can’t carry on at all.”

I let go of his hands and put my gauntlets back on. I don’t know if he’s saying all this because he doesn’t really like me that much or if he just honestly wants to focus on the fighting. Either way he doesn’t want to kiss right now and I’m not going to try to make him do something he doesn’t want to do. 

Baz frowns at me then continues to drink his tea. 

I sit there trying not to think about how good his skin feels against my lips or how much it hurts that he probably doesn’t want what I want. Instead I try to think about the fact that him wanting to kiss me at all is flattering but that feels like a hollow win. He could kiss anyone he wanted to and he kissed me. But still, it could be a last resort given us being alone and trapped here. 

Thinking isn’t working so I get up and practice with my sword for the rest of the break.

At three o’clock, there’s a loud crash from upstairs. As we go up the stairs we hear screeches and banging from Baz’s sisters room. 

“Konīr's quba nābēmagon va dekossa!” one yells from the room. There’s also lots of groaning and other pained sounds coming from in there.

“Sōvegon qrīdrughagon!” another yells, then there’s some whooshing then silence. 

“I guess the caltrops worked,” Baz says. 

“They might come back.”

“Maybe. It’s getting dark though. We should light the lamps.”

We go through the house and relight all the kerosene lamps. I wish they were higher up so the gremlins couldn’t reach them. 

We also check on all the fireplaces to make sure they’re still lit. 

It’s hauntingly beautiful how Baz’s skin looks in the firelight. I wonder if it would look this good if he wasn’t a vampire. It’d probably still be beautiful, but in a different way. This is beautiful in a rather sad way, actually now that I think about it. Everything about him is fire. He’s skilled with it, he likes the smell of it, it makes his skin glow gorgeously. But if he touches it at all, he’d be gone. 

When we’re done, Baz lays a blanket over the hole in the stairs room. 

I think Baz and Kevin McCallister have a lot in common. 

It’s almost four o’clock so I think it’s safe to say the Strix won’t come back.

We go back to the library and Baz drinks more tea and I practice more with my sword. I’d still rather be kissing Baz or at least touching him, even if it’s just our shoulders through steel pauldrons. But every time I glance at him he’s frowning at me. 

He must regret the kiss. 

I almost slice into a bookshelf when there’s a loud crash followed by roaring. I guess the minotaur is here.

It sounds like it’s coming from the basement so we walk into the hallway and go to the tripwire by the mistletoe to wait for it. 

After more roaring and yelling from it we hear it stomp up the stairs. 

When his head finally pokes up from the stairs and he sees us he yells, “You think you’re fucking funny? I’m going to force feed you these fucking caltrops when I get my hands on you!”

As he reaches the top of the stairs, he realizes there’s more caltrops there, separating him from us. He glares at us then begins to carefully nudge the caltrops away with his hooves. He’s angrily muttering to himself while making a path for himself.

We both giggle a little at his struggle. It’s dangerous to taunt a minotaur, but this is kinda funny. 

Once he has cleared the caltrops he says, “Now you’re fucking dead,” and charges at us and we run.

When we hear a crash, we look back to see he’s fallen over the tripwire. We laugh and he roars. We keep running though. We run around the hole to the entrance of the artifacts room, then Baz draws his khopesh and gets in a battle stance so I do the same thing. 

We hear the minotaur carefully walking down the hall, probably trying to find more traps. 

The minotaur enters the stairs room, and says, “Meet me in battle and stop hiding behind traps, you cowards!”

Baz just beckons him towards us, and I try to keep a straight face as the minotaur charges right at us. 

Before he can get to us, he falls down the hole with the blanket and there’s a loud _snap!_

We look down the hole and there he is. Crushed in the mousetrap. 

“I guess this is officially the third minotaur this hole has claimed,” Baz says.

I nod. That was funny, but I still don’t really know how to talk to Baz right now. 

I’m hungry and I don’t want to ask Baz to make me something, so I go and make another scaffle. 

After I find some matches, I try to do what he did, but mine came out a bit crunchier. Well. A lot crunchier. I really have to take my time to chew it. 

Baz didn’t follow me into the kitchen and I don’t know what to make of that. 

Baz is a rollercoaster and I want to keep riding him but I want him to stop going up and down so much. I just want him to go steady. I want to go steady with him. 

It takes me so long to chew my scaffle that I’m still not done with it when Baz comes to get the knife block.

“This time say, ‘Der Vampir liebt meinen Schwanz!’” Baz says. 

I glare at him. I don’t know what embarrassing things he’s been making me say, but it works so I don’t really have a choice but to do it. 

“Der Vampir liebt meinen Schwanz,” I repeat to myself over and over. 

Baz keeps smiling and it pisses me off because I know he’s being mean, but I can’t help but note how cute his smile is. 

_Der Vampir liebt meinen Schwanz._

We go into the stairs room, because she always comes in through the skylight and Baz goes in the TV room. 

“What are you doing?” I ask.

“Just try to lead her away like usual. I think she’s caught on to our act by now and will attack me on sight.”

I huff, and he closes the door. I can’t believe he’s using me as bait. 

As expected, snow falls in and Perchta materializes. 

“Ich werde nicht wieder von dir abgelenkt! Wo ist der Tote?” she screeches, angrily coming at me. 

I walk backward toward the hall and say, “Der Vampir liebt meinen Schwanz!” 

“Offensichtlich! Wo ist er?” she yells frantically. 

She follows me to the hallway, then I start hearing honking as her geese start fluttering down. 

Baz steps out of the TV room, and throws a knife at each of them before they land. 

Perchta screams, punches me in the face, and turns to snow. 

I hold my nose. I don’t think she broke it but it really hurts. It’s making my eyes water a little. 

“Are you alright?” Baz asks. 

“I think so,” I say and check my hands for blood. There’s a couple drops but nothing to be concerned about. 

Baz points his wand at my nose and says, “ **_Get well soon!_ **” I maybe feel a hint of that warm sensation I get when he uses magic on me, but my nose doesn’t feel any better.

“Did that help?” Baz asks. 

I shake my head and Baz frowns at his wand. He walks off and I go sit in the library. 

He comes in after a few minutes with a bag of frozen peas and hands it to me. 

“Thanks,” I say, and put it on my nose. 

Baz leaves again. I lie down on the loveseat couch, with my legs over the arm and close my eyes. 

I need to talk to Baz. I need to get to the bottom of how he feels. But I don’t know how to word it. 

I think about it for a while, and I almost have a plan, but when Baz comes back in, I forget everything. I wish I had a pen and paper. 

Baz starts playing something on his violin. I don’t know the song but it’s beautiful and I don’t think it’s Christmasy. 

I just close my eyes and listen. I listen for a long time. 

After a while he stops and hands me my helmet. For a moment I’m confused, but then I remember the harpies are next. 

I put it on not a moment too soon, because the harpies burst through the library windows. They get caught in the net we put there, screeching deafeningly.

Baz casts “ **_Silent night! Holy night!_ **” and everything goes silent, and I go to the net and just start piercing them with my sword one by one until they’re all dead.

Baz rings the sleigh bells and casts the spell so we can hear again, and I **Fus ro dah** the dead harpies back outside and Baz repairs the window. 

I take off my helmet and go back to the couch and lay down. Baz goes back to playing the violin. 

Maybe I should just ask him if he regrets the kiss and not make it complicated. It’s just a simple question. Even though it makes my chest feel tight when I think about what the answer could be. 

I wait for him to finish a song to ask, but he smoothly goes from one song to the next, giving me no opportunity.

After a while I just give up and listen and try to relax. 

This time we’re interrupted by a crash from somewhere in the stairs room. 

When we go to investigate, we hear lots of shouting and wailing from Baz’s dad’s office. We go in and see all the incubi writhing on the ground gruesomely covered in caltrops.

“This isn’t the kind of prick I like in me,” one cries. 

“Izg skazga fik,” another sobs. 

I accidentally look one in the eyes and I see the yellow, but the haze doesn’t happen. I just thought about Baz, for a tick, wondering if they could make me hurt him if I was under their control, and the yellow just went away. 

I hope this doesn’t mean I’m straight again. That’d be a nightmare. 

“After our brothers kill you, they’ll kill your family for this,” one hisses at me. 

“Good thing you’re an orphan,” Baz says to me, then starts blasting them with fire. 

They all shriek and the smell makes me uncomfortable because it smells really good. It doesn’t smell like something I’d like to eat though, thank Merlin. That’d be a horrible feeling. But it smells like deodorant or something. 

When he’s done with that, I go back into the library, and Baz heads off towards the kitchen. 

A while later, he comes into the library armfuls of two foot mouse traps and starts placing them around the door, then he disappears again with them.

I keep going back and forth about if I should ask Baz about how he feels. It would be awkward to be stuck here another day at least if he told me he regretted the kiss. I’d have to pretend not to be devastated and I think Baz would be nice to me which would make me feel like shit that he pities me. 

But I’m dying to know. 

He comes back and says, “I have a book I think you might like.”

“I don’t feel like reading,” I say.

“I’ll read it to you, you illiterate muppet,” he says and sits next to me. 

I look at the cover and it’s called _The Princess Bride_. I sigh because this is probably going to be some sort of boring Victorian book or something. 

But then he starts reading and I’m immediately lulled by his voice. 

And the story isn’t boring like I thought it was going to be. It’s weird and kinda confusing, but I like it. 

Eventually I realize that I’m reading along with my head against his shoulder, and I don’t know if I should move away or stay where I am.

Then we hear the drumming. After a moment there’s squealing from all over the house. 

I guess some of the gremlins came down the chimneys again. Can they not tell they’re lit from the roof? How smart are gremlins? 

It’s silent for a moment. Then there’s another gremlin squeal. Then another and another. 

Baz and I go to do a head count. There were four charred gremlins in various rooms, two dead ones in mouse traps (they got their necks snapped), and three live ones that Baz lit on fire.

Baz makes more tea then we sit in the library and wait. He sat in a chair, so I can’t sit next to him. I don’t know if that was intentional or not. 

This uncertainty with Baz is only getting more frustrating. I want to run to him, knock him over and demand he tell me how he feels.

But obviously I can’t even if that would work. I’m pretty sure it’s against the rules to be violent with someone you’re romantically involved with even if it’s another bloke. Even if you don’t know how involved it is. 

Baz starts doing his yoga breathing, so I ask, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah. I’m just trying to center myself so I’ll be ready when the satyr makes me angry or hungry.”

That’s a good idea, so I start doing it too. 

I’m startled when I hear a note of a flute then the fire in the fireplace goes out. Baz and I immediately draw our swords. 

The satyr drops down on the smoldering wood and steps forth. I run to attack him but he switches notes and I’m frozen in place. 

_Don’t be angry with Baz. It’s the satyrs tricks._

The satyr starts playing a melody and I look at Baz. 

I’m not angry at him. In fact, he’s never looked better. He looks stunning. In that armor, he looks like a beautiful Christmas present I want to unwrap. 

I think I will unwrap him. 

We both drop our weapons and go to each other. His breathing is shallow and he’s giving me that same look he gave me when I sucked on his finger. I use his parted lips to my advantage when I pull him by the back of his head and shove my tongue in his mouth.

His mouth is so sweet. Probably from all the sugar he puts in his tea. 

I put my hand on his chest and realize there’s too much between him and I. I rip off my gauntlets and start frantically trying to unbuckle his breastplate. 

I’m so focused that I’m surprised when Baz already has his gauntlets off and literally rips my breastplate off. 

That only distracts me from taking off his for a fraction of a second. 

After I get his off I pause and just stare at the perfect form of his chest. His body is more beautiful than any art I’ve ever seen. 

I put my hands under his shirt and run my hands up his stomach to his chest and his breath hitches. He is as smooth and firm as I’ve always imagined. The feeling sends sparks of pleasure pulsing from my palms to my cock which I now notice is painfully hard. 

I need to get those yoga pants off him. 

I let go to start taking off his grieves then he’s gone and I’m somewhere else. 

I’m in the Wavering Wood and the dry sucking feeling is prickling at my skin.

I hear giggling and I turn around. There’s nothing but trees. I squint at the shadows but don’t see any movement. 

There’s more giggles from behind me and I whip around and shout, “Show yourself!” 

All I see is the lights from Mummers House in the distance. I growl in frustration.

“O Christmas tree, O Christmas tree!” I hear. 

I whip back around and there it is. The Humdrum. Sitting in a tree above me, giggling. 

It still looks like eleven year old me. It still has that red ball, wearing ratty jeans and t-shirt. 

“Why did you bring me here!?” I shout at it. 

It just laughs at me more. I call for my sword but it doesn’t come. It must have gotten left behind at Baz’s house. 

“I thought you’d want to be home for the holidays,” it says innocently.

Blood and yellow liquid start coming out of my pores.

 _Oh no._ Not here. This is a dying spot. I can’t let Watford die. 

Maybe if I run to it I can shield it somehow. 

As I turn to go, there’s a sharp pain in my chest and I fall backwards. 

I blink and the Wavering Woods is gone and Baz is looking down at me with a horrified look on his face.

I see him take out his antler dagger and throw it. I look over and see he threw it so hard it went straight through the satyrs throat and hit the wall behind him. Blood gushes out and it falls over dead. 

I try to breathe and it’s agonizing. 

I look at Baz and he’s staring at my chest looking panicked. I look down and see his dagger sticking out of me. His hands are hovering over it, trembling. 

“Simon,” he breathes. 

I reach to pull the blade out, and Baz swats my hands away. “If you remove it, you’ll bleed out! I can’t heal you with this wand!”

I try to say something but then I cough. It’s excruciating and I can taste copper as blood spurts out of my mouth.

“ _You_ were supposed to kill _me_!” Baz sobs, and cradles my head upwards.

What?

“I was never going to kill you! I love you! You can’t fucking die like this!” he continues. 

He sobs and I keep coughing more. I’m really grateful for him lifting my head. It’s helping to keep me from choking on the blood. But I’m starting to feel cold and tired. 

I feel Baz stiffen, then say, “I’ll be right back. Don’t you dare fucking die!” Then he gently sets my head down and leaves. 

I want to ask him to stay but it hurts to much to try to speak. It feels like I'm drowning. 

I stare up at the ceiling and it looks like it’s getting darker. At first I think I’m imagining it but it’s definitely getting darker. 

Then it goes black. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not gonna lie. When I posted this story, the low kudos compared to No Tomorrow got me down a bit. But everyone who let me know they liked it really made me feel better about it. The fact that you guys enjoyed it means the world to me.  
> So thank you: aralias, KrisRix, Sourcherrymagiks, vin, annabellelux, nina, madafred, little_Birdy, pointless, Baz Snow, ahhelga and Thatonepotato. <3
> 
> And sorry for ending the chapter like that.


	13. The Twelfth Day of Christmas: Part I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On the twelfth day of Christmas Krampus gave to me: twelve lords a leaping, eleven ladies dancing, ten pipers piping, nine drummers drumming, eight maids a milking, seven swans a swimming, six geese a laying, five golden rings, four Colly birds, three French hens, two turtle doves, and a partridge in a peartree.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry for taking so long to update this! Especially with how the previous chapter ended! Moving and painting took a lot more time than expected and there were a lot of unexpected things happening. Plus this chapter was longer than I expected it to be.  
> But I decided to break the chapter into two parts because I'm not done and I’ve been feeling guilty about the cliffhanger I left you on, and I know a lot of people are stuck at home because of COVID-19, so I hope this can be a distraction.  
> Also, thank you so much everyone for your support! The comments and kudos have been wonderful. The kudos doubled from just that last chapter! Insane. Thank you so much.

**Tuesday, Christmas Eve  
**

  
As I slowly wake up, I realize I’m on a soft bed. There’s a blanket over me. Something is on my hand. 

I open my eyes and I’m in Baz’s room. It’s still dark outside the window. Baz is sitting on a chair next to the bed with the top half of his body collapsed over the bed, asleep. He’s holding my hand. 

I smile, but then I remember. _Watford._

“Baz! Wake up!” I say and wiggle his hand.

He jerks awake then looks at me with concern on his face and relief in his eyes.

“The Humdrum!” I continue. “It’s turning Watford into a dead spot! We have to go stop it!”

I start to get up but Baz pushes me back down by the shoulder.

“It wasn’t real,” he says.

“What do you mean?” I ask. 

“The song the satyr played. It was making us see things that weren’t real.”

“That was real. I’d know if that was a dream. I could _feel_ The Humdrum,” I say.

“Mine felt real too… I was so convinced.”

“What did you see?” I ask.

“I saw a man that I somehow knew was Nicodemus. I don’t know how I knew. I was just sure it was him. He confessed to killing my mother and laughed about it… I stabbed him and in a blink he was gone and you were there,” Baz says and starts tearing up. 

“I’m so sorry,” he continues. “I should have known. It makes no sense that I’d know him by looking at him. I should have known it was an illusion.”

“Come here,” I say and pull on his arm.

He looks at me confused, so I push off the blanket and say, “Get on the bed.”

He hesitantly gets on the bed, and I wrap my arms around him and pull him close. I feel him shudder, trying not to cry.

“It’s okay. It was the satyr. It wasn’t you,” I say and stroke his hair. 

I try to think about what I last remember. Baz killed the satyr, and there was a lot of pain. Baz was crying and he yelled some things.

“Did you say you love me?” I ask.

“Yes,” Baz says with a shaky voice.

“For how long?” I ask. 

“Always.”

There has been almost eight years of insults and fighting. Surely he can’t mean that.

Unless… 

His family hates The Mage. They hate The Mage’s heir. They would have expected him to as well. He would have had to hide loving me. Hide it from everyone, including me. Especially me. Mask it through insults and threats and fighting.

But he kissed me anyways. He chose me over everything else. 

But then he regretted it.

Baz is still trembling against me. His sobs are barely audible. 

“Baz,” I say. “I think I understand. And it’s okay.”

It’s not okay. It breaks my heart that he didn’t ultimately choose me. But I understand. And I forgive him.

“What’s okay?” he asks. 

“You not wanting to be with me.”

“I just told you I’ve loved you for nearly a decade, you numpty. What makes you think I’m ever going to let you go now?”

“Well, you were kinda pushing me away yesterday,” I say.

“Yes, because keeping you alive is far more important than snogging you.”

“We had time in between fights to kiss,” I say.

He sighs and says, “Also I was afraid that after all this was over, and you had other options, you’d be done with me. And the idea of having you and then losing you scared me. I thought after this was over, I could figure out how things between us really are. But now I don’t care. I don’t care if this is just a bit of fun for you. I don’t care if this is temporary. I’ll take whatever I can get. Use me.”

“Baz… I’d never use you. This is all still new to me, but I think I’ve had feelings for you for a long time. I just didn’t recognize them for what they were.”

“Well, never say never. I wouldn’t mind being used by you now and again,” he says, and his sobs turn into laughs and I laugh too.

I push him onto his back and roll over on top of him, and sit on his lap. He puts his hands on my hips and smiles at me. Then he looks down and frowns. 

I look down and see a scar on my chest, a little to the right of my heart, where the dagger was. I touch it and it doesn’t hurt. But that doesn’t stop me from saying, “Kiss it better.”

He pushes me back, then gets on top of me, in between my legs, and starts softly kissing the spot.

“Does it hurt?” he asks. 

“No,” I admit. 

He keeps kissing. Then his kisses trail up to my neck and he starts sucking. I let out a small sigh of pleasure. No one has done this to me before. 

I’m getting hard from the pressure of him in between my legs, then he rolls off of me and covers his mouth, looking horrified. 

“Did I scare you?” I ask nervously, looking down at the erection you can visibly see I’m sporting through my joggers. 

“It’s not that,” he says with a bit of a lisp. _Oh._

I move his hand from his mouth. He lets me. I can’t bring myself to be bothered that he wants to eat me. His fangs are sexy. He still looks scared though.

I smile and say, “It’s okay. Have you ever done this before?”

Baz shakes his head. I’ve never seen him with someone before, but it still kinda surprises me. He’s so good looking, he could easily find someone.

“So, we’re both new at this. Unless you have a guide book, we’re going to have to learn as we go.”

“Actually, I do have a book. But it doesn’t cover vampires,” he says with a lisp still.

“Well. I’m not worried about you biting me. I’ve been around you while you’re starving and I’ve been around you while bleeding out. Actually. How am I alive right now? What happened? You left me.”

His fangs audibly retract, then he says, “I remembered there was one more magic conductor that I didn’t try. My grandfather’s violin bow. I didn’t know if it would work but it was the only option I had. I ran to the artifacts room to get it and when I came back I thought you were dead… ” he trails off.

I’m afraid he’ll start crying again, so I take his hand and ask, “Then what?”

“I pulled out the dagger and cast healing spells on you. The wound sealed up, but you weren’t breathing… So I did chest compressions and gave you mouth to mouth…”

“Is that it?” I ask.

Baz shakes his head and doesn’t make eye contact with me. 

What could have happened that has him so shaken?

“Tell me what happened,” I say softly. 

“You- you coughed up blood… A lot of it…” he says and tears are streaming down his face now. 

“Some of it got in my mouth,” he continues. “I tried to spit it out but the taste was still there… So I ran. I locked myself in the bathroom and I scrubbed my mouth with a wet hand towel. I was in there for so long, I almost forgot about the eleven ladies dancing… I almost killed you again. I just left you unconscious while creatures were coming to kill you.”

“Baz, you didn’t almost kill me multiple times. You saved me multiple times. I’m alive because of you. Over the last two weeks, you’ve saved me more times than I can count.”

“Well, that’s not saying a lot because you can’t count that high.”

“I don’t need to be able to count when I can count on you,” I say and put a hand on his cheek to wipe tears away with my thumb. He puts a hand over my hand then nuzzles into it then kisses it.

I roll over onto him again. We’ve almost rolled a full circle around the bed now.

I start kissing and sucking on Baz’s neck. I think he likes it because he has a fistful of my hair keeping me in place. I don’t mind. I don’t plan on going anywhere.

“Tell me about the eleven ladies dancing,” I say into his neck in between kisses. 

“Well,” Baz says, trying to keep his breath steady. “Shortly after I put you in bed, I went back to the library to wait. Then suddenly it got very cold and soundlessly a ballet dancer danced in. Everything she went near froze so I couldn’t go near her. She was a pale blue, and when she pirouetted, two more of her spiraled out around her and they all started dancing.”

“What does pirouette mean?” I ask, then go back to sucking on a spot between his neck and jaw, near his ear. 

“When a ballet dancer stands on one foot and does a spin,” he says. 

I hum against his skin to acknowledge I understand. 

“I threw a fireball at one and she exploded and ice went flying like shrapnel. I had to cast **not a snowball’s chance in hell** to melt it before it got to me.”

“Have I ever told you how brilliant you are?” I ask him. 

“I’ve assumed it’s gone poetically unspoken.”

“Well, I’m not a poet. So, you are bloody brilliant,” I say and start nibbling at his ear.

He sighs happily when I do and I have to remind him, “Keep talking.”

“As soon as that happened, she pirouetted again and then there was four of them. I was trying to follow the one that was making the copies but they were dancing around each other like Waltz of the Snowflakes but much faster, and I lost track of her. She pirouetted again and I just started throwing fire at all of them. What are you doing?” he asks, as I try to lift his shirt. 

“I’m not wearing a shirt either. Solidarity,” I say, as he helps me get his shirt off. I will never get tired of his exposed chest. 

I sit up, on his lap, to admire it. Then I realize I feel something poking my arse and I realize he’s getting hard too. I grind on him a little and he groans.

I bend back down to kiss and lick his chest. When my tongue goes over a nipple, his breath hitches. 

“Finish the story,” I tell him in between kisses. 

“I pretty much set the whole library ablaze until there was one dancer left, then I threw a dagger at her head, and put the fire out before the rest of the house caught fire,” he says breathily.

I think I’m as hard as I was when the satyr played that damn melody. I don’t really know what I’m doing. I don’t know if it’ll be bad or good. (I need to borrow that book Baz has.) But I do what I feel like I need to do right now. 

I slide down so I can grind my erection on his, and when I do, we both moan loudly. 

He pulls me down by the back of the head and starts kissing me while I continue to grind. His tongue quickly enters my mouth and I didn’t know this was possible, but I think I like him in my mouth more than I like scones in my mouth.

I didn’t know anything could feel like this. It’s pure bliss. It feels like how it felt when Baz popped my shoulder back into its socket. Like, before everything was wrong and painful and now it’s how it’s supposed to be and it feels good. All the pain and loneliness has melted and now it’s just ecstasy. 

I feel myself breathe harder and harder. Thank Merlin for thin activewear material. This wouldn’t be the same in jeans. 

Baz pushes me back a little and his fangs pop out. For a moment I’m afraid he’s going to get upset and stop, but instead he growls, pushes me on my back and gets on top of me, still in between my legs. 

My whole body throbs at that.

He grinds against me harder and faster, while groaning my name. Merlin, I think I have a fetish for hearing my own name now. 

I’m moaning with each thrust and I feel my toes twitch. I didn’t know so much could be accomplished while still clothed.

I’m almost there when there’s a bang on the ceiling followed by howling. It sounds like it’s coming from right above us.

I instinctively wrap my arms and legs around Baz and he wraps his arms around me. We stay like that, breathing heavily, probably looking like Scooby and Shaggy after seeing a g-g-ghost. 

There’s another bang that sounds farther away. 

“I didn’t think it was possible but I hate Krampus even more now,” I say. Then after a moment I ask, “Did you still want to?...”

Baz sighs and shakes his head. I don’t think he’s hard anymore. I don’t feel him. 

I’m disappointed, but also relieved that he doesn’t want to continue. If we’re going to do whatever that was, I want it to be special and not be terrified and thinking about Krampus.

He rolls off me and starts to apologize so I say, “It’s fine. It’s more than fine. As long as you’re okay, I’m happy.”

He rolls onto his side and puts his head on my chest. He rubs my new scar lightly with his fingertips and asks, “Are you sure it doesn’t hurt?”

“It doesn’t hurt,” I assure him. “It’s fine. No harm, no foul.”

“I didn’t think anything could hurt you. Not even me,” he says quietly. 

“You hurt me all the time,” I say, then immediately realize that was the wrong thing to say as he stills. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispers. 

“It’s okay. I’m glad I let you. I could have gone off on you at any moment over the years if I wanted to,” I say, trying to be funny to light up the conversation.

“You should,” he says. 

“Go off on you?”

“No. I don’t mean me. But fuck the house. It’s already fucked to hell. If something is anywhere near killing you, I want you to go off on it,” he says. 

I know the house is in bad shape, but I still don’t want to demolish it. Also, going off usually involves fire. I know in the past I’ve managed to shield him while going off, but it’s not like I control it. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I accidentally killed him. 

“I’ll keep that in mind,” I say, making no promises. 

I look out the window and see the sun start to come up so I ask, “What time is it?”

Baz looks out the window and says, “Probably about eight. Do you need more rest?”

“No. I feel great. What about you?” I ask. Now I kinda feel bad about waking him up.

“I’m fine. Vampires don’t need as much sleep as everyone else.”

We both put our shirts on, and I can’t help but notice my joggers aren’t stained with blood. I’m not sure if he spelled me clean or dressed me while I was unconscious… 

We go downstairs and I check the library because I could smell it from down the hall. The room is blackened from all the charring. The Christmas tree that was in here before is simply gone now. He really did set the whole room ablaze. 

I take out my wand at cast, “ **_Good as new!_ **” The charring around me lightened up a bit. I think. 

“It’s beyond repair,” Baz says. 

“Just humor me and try,” I say. 

We spend twenty minutes trying various repair spells, and the library is burnt to shit still, but the smell is mostly gone, the furniture is usable, and the floor is decent enough. Everything will still need to be replaced, but at least we can use it. (Well, we can at least be in it. The books unfortunately are unsalvageable.)

I go into the dining room and shortly after, Baz comes in with my breakfast. He made me bacon and toast with heart shaped eggs in the middle.

“Did you magic this?” I ask. 

“No. I just used love.”

I do my best to raise an eyebrow at him but I’m probably just making a weird face. 

“And a heart shaped cookie cutter,” he admits. 

I eat it and it’s delicious as always. I want to jokingly ask him to marry me just for his cooking skills, but that might be a little weird because we’re snogging. Or dating. I’m still not really sure what we are, actually.

“Are we snogging?” I ask.

“Not at the moment.”

I roll my eyes. “You know what I mean.”

“Honestly, Snow. This is whatever you want it to be. You know how I feel, and like I said, I’ll take what I can get.”

“So, boyfriends?” 

Baz smiles and says, “If that’s what you want.”

“It is. Also, call me Simon.”

“Snow. I will stop trying to murder you, but you can’t expect me to change my whole personality,” he says, clearly taking the piss. 

“It’s just a name,” I complain. 

“A rose by any other name would smell as sweet, nightmare.”

“Okay, Snow is fine,” I agree. 

“No. I like ‘nightmare’ now,” he says. 

“Aren’t couples supposed to have cute pet names for each other?”

“Boring ones.”

“Why can’t we be boring?” I ask. 

“Because I’m a vampire and the Pitch heir, and you are The Mage’s heir and the most powerful mage alive. We don’t get the luxury of being boring.”

I want to give him a mean nickname to see how he likes it, but I can’t think of any that don’t seem too mean.

Wait. I got it. 

“Fair enough, _sugarplum_ ,” I say.

Baz raises that perfect eyebrow but doesn’t say anything. I think he hates it but doesn’t want to encourage me saying it by admitting it bothers him.

When I finish eating, Baz clears my plates and I say, “Thanks, sugarplum,” because I’m not going to stop until he admits that he doesn’t like it.

When he comes back, I say, “What now, sugarplum?”

He yanks me out of the chair by my arm, and slams me into the wall. I think I’ve really pissed him off but then he reaches down to pull me up by my thighs. I instinctively wrap my legs around his waist. I put one hand on his chest and one on his face. Using one hand to hold me up and his body to pin me against the wall, he uses his free hand to card through my hair. 

He stares into my eyes with his beautiful grey eyes. 

“What happened to waiting?” I ask.

“We have some time to spare.”

He’s just staring at me, so I kiss him. As our tongues intermingle, I keep trying to pull his face closer. After a moment he pulls his head away and says, “Say it again.”

I have to think about what he wants then I say, “Sugarplum?”

He hungrily goes back to kissing me and squeezing my arse with the hand holding me up. He trails kisses across my face and down my neck and says, “Thank you, Simon.”

I’m enjoying this too much to think hard about if it’s weird that I’m getting off on my own name and he’s getting off on a silly pet name. 

He sucks on my neck and I hope his fangs don’t come out and scare him off again. I can’t help but make small and soft moaning sounds when he does it. 

I’m getting hard again. All this teasing is driving me insane. I want to keep going and I want the release. But I can’t shake the idea that Krampus is somehow watching and will interrupt us again.

I sigh and tap the hand holding me up. I bring my legs down and he releases me, looking a little confused. 

“Tomorrow,” I say.

“What if there is no tomorrow?” Baz asks, parroting my words back to me, but not mocking me. 

“There will be a tomorrow,” I say confidently. I’ll make damn sure of it. 

I go get a bucket and start filling it with water and Baz asks, “What are you doing?”

“I’m going to ice the stairs,” I tell him, then carry the bucket to the foyer, open the door, and pour it all out onto the steps. It freezes pretty quickly. It’s bloody cold outside. 

“Do you have any paint cans?” I ask. 

“We’re not doing the paint can thing,” Baz says flatly. 

“I think it’ll work. I know I saw rope in the basement.”

“What are you even going to kill with it? Are you going to line the gremlins up and play some skittles? I don’t think they’ll go for that.”

“What is skittles?” I ask.

“It’s a pub game where you knock over nine pins with a ball.”

“That’s fitting. But anyways,” I say shaking my head free of that tangent, “We can just set it up somewhere. Like over the stairs or something.”

“Snow,” Baz says sounding exasperated. “I don’t think we have paint cans laying around. I haven’t seen any.”

“What about spring traps or something?” I ask.

“The house is already decked out in traps. They worked yesterday. They’ll work today.”

Instead of making more traps, he clears out the bodies still lying around from yesterday and checks to make sure all the traps are still up, including the giant mouse trap. 

Then he goes in the kitchen and says, “I’m going to make us food to eat later.”

“What are you making?” I ask, as he gets out a very large pot, chicken stock, a big slab of beef and various vegetables.

He looks at everything he got out, then looks at me like I’m an idiot, and dryly says, “Stew.”

I’m a bit disappointed it’s not roast beef, but I guess he can’t make that without an oven.

At first he lets me help cut the vegetables, but apparently I’m cutting them wrong. I didn’t know there was a wrong way. Also, he’s much faster at it, so he takes over and I sit on a stool and watch.

When he turns on the stove to start cooking it, it smells really good.

It takes forever to cook. By the time it’s done, it’s already eleven, so we go to the library to wait, leaving the stew simmering so it’ll stay hot.

Baz spells the armor we ripped last night back together, then we put it on and sit down. 

Baz sharpens his khopesh with a whetstone while I watch. There’s something relaxing about it. Although I am glad I don’t have to do that with my sword. The Sword of Mages never gets dull. No matter how many trees I hack to bits with it.

When the grandfather clock (which miraculously survived the fire) bongs as the clock strikes noon, I get up to go to the door. But something feels off.

I look at Baz and he has a thoughtful expression on his face.

“Is something wrong?” I ask him. 

“The doorbell didn’t ring. I’m listening to figure out if the ent somehow came in through another entrance.”

I listen too but I don’t hear anything. There’s no bells jingling and no crashing sounds. 

I look at Baz to see if he hears anything but he just shakes his head. We walk to the foyer and look out the window but all we see is the blizzard. 

Baz lights a fire in his palm as I open the door, but there’s nothing out there. I poke my head out and look around. I feel the strange mix of hot and freezing air on my face. I don’t see anything though. 

I close the door and say, “Maybe it’s late.”

“There’s been a few instances where one of the creatures wasn’t on time, but the ent has always arrived at noon.”

I shrug and we wait by the door for a while but it doesn’t show up.

“Maybe the ice on the stairs repelled it,” I suggest.

“Then it would have come through another entrance.”

“Maybe they decided the tree wasn’t effective and they didn’t bother sending it,” I suggest, as we go back to the library to sit back down.

Baz doesn’t say anything as he sits on the couch and pours himself more tea. I can’t read his expression. It’s definitely not relief though.

The tree has never been a real threat. The worst it’s done is hit me in the bollocks. Granted, that might have been my second worse injury. (The first one being getting stabbed last night. I would say getting my shoulder dislocated was second, but if I’m being honest, that was a cakewalk in comparison. Baz said popping it back in the socket was going to be incredibly painful but now I can’t help but wonder if he was just trying to get me drunk. Having it popped back into place actually felt good whereas being hit in the bollocks is second only to dying.) But, the tree was never very threatening. The succubi left when they realized they were having no effect. This must be the same thing.

“Do you want to practice with your daggers before the perytons get here?” I ask him. 

He takes out his dagger like he’s going to, but then he looks at me, then at his dagger, then puts it back away, shaking his head. 

“You aren’t going to accidentally stab me while in your right mind,” I tell him. 

“I’d rather not test that theory,” he says. 

“Okay,” I say and sit next to him. 

I lean my head on his shoulder, which was a mistake because his gargoyle pauldron is digging into my face.

Baz must sense my discomfort because he says, “Turn and put your legs over the arm of the couch.”

I do it, then he guides me back by my shoulders until my head is resting on his lap. He looks down at me, smiles and pets my hair. I thought no one could look good from this angle, but he manages to look incredible from every angle. I can see up his nose and he still looks like a goddamn model. 

“I can’t wait for today to finally be over,” I say. 

“Same. This isn’t exactly the way I was hoping to spend Christmas Eve.”

“How were you hoping to spend it?” I ask.

Baz looks down at me and says, “Actually this isn’t that far from my wildest dreams of how I’d be spending Christmas Eve. If it weren’t for the power being out and the impending doom, this would be perfect.”

“If The Humdrum never sent Krampus and the incubi never came, would you have been trying to seduce me the whole time?” I ask.

“Crowley, no. I thought you were straight. I was just trying to give you a decent Christmas, because I knew you had nowhere else to go.”

“All that over the top Christmas stuff was you being _nice_? I thought you found a new way to torment me,” I admit.

Baz laughs and I can’t help but laugh with him. 

He sets his tea down then leans down to kiss me. We stay like that for a while. Just kissing and cuddling. 

When it’s almost one o’clock, we get up and Baz gets the sheets ready. We don’t know where the perytons will come in from, so we stand around in the hallway in between the foyer and the library. We stay quiet to listen for them. 

After a bit, I check the clock in the library and it’s past one. Where are they?

We wait a bit longer before I say, “Maybe they thought they killed me last night and left.”

Baz frowns and says, “The only creature that saw you get stabbed was the satyr and he didn’t live to pass on the message.”

“Maybe Krampus saw it through a window and left before he could see you revive me.”

“Then why send the eleven ladies dancing last night?”

“I don’t know. Then maybe after that they decided they just couldn’t kill us and gave up,” I suggest. 

“Then why did Krampus get on the roof to howl like the massive cock-block he is? Did you feel The Humdrum when you looked around for the ent?” he asks. 

“Oh. Yeah, I did.”

“This feels wrong,” Baz says. 

“What?” 

“I don’t think this is a good sign.”

“I’m sure it’s fine. They probably decided it was a waste to send the smaller things after us. That’s all,” I say, trying to convince myself as well. This does seem a little too good to be true.

I go back to the library to take my place on the couch. As Baz sits next to me I decide to change the topic. “When we go back to Watford, are we going to keep our relationship a secret?”

“Fuck no,” Baz says immediately. 

“I just thought you wouldn’t want people to know.”

“I want everyone to know you’re mine,” he says then casually sips his tea. 

“But then it’ll get back to your parents,” I remind him.

“I’ll just tell them I have The Mage’s heir under my thumb and they’ll be content.”

“Your parents would be happy with you seducing the enemy?” I ask.

He laughs and says, “Probably not. I don’t owe them an explanation though. Dev and Neil on the other hand...”

“What about them?”

“I don’t think they’ll be happy with this outcome after years of helping me plot.”

“So you were plotting!” I yell, startling him. “I fucking knew it.”

“I wasn’t being very secretive about it. Even a numpty would have noticed. Besides. I stopped plotting this year.”

“Why’d you stop?” I ask him, curiously. 

“I didn’t see the point. This was my last year with you. I decided I didn’t want to cause you any more pain than I needed to.”

I take the teacup out of his hands and set it on the table before leaning over and kissing him. 

When I break away I ask, “Would your mother have approved of me?”

“That’s a bit out of the blue,” Baz states. 

“Not really. We’re talking about how people will react to us being together. And I want to know more about her.”

“Well, she wouldn’t approve of you,” he says. 

“Why?”

“Because you’re a Normal,” he says. 

I feel my jaw drop a little. “You said I was the most powerful mage alive,” I say a little more defensively than I meant to.

“You are. But my mother wouldn’t have seen it that way. She probably would have also killed me if she knew I was a vampire. She was an extraordinary woman but no one is perfect.”

“That’s- She- I-” I don’t know what exactly to say. What do you say when someone says they’re mother would have killed them?

“It’s okay, Snow. It’s just the way it is,” he says and takes my hand, like he’s reassuring me. I should be reassuring him. 

“Would she be okay with you being gay?” I ask. 

“I think so. I’ve never asked. But my aunt knows I’m gay and she’s supportive. She’s my mother’s sister.”

“Well, I’m glad you have someone supportive in your life,” I say. 

“When she finds out about you she’ll probably tell me I could do better though,” he says and we both laugh. I’ve met his aunt. She definitely doesn’t like me.

I ask him to tell me more about his mother and he does. He doesn’t remember a lot but he remembers some things. She sounds more gentle and loving than I imagined her being.

Apparently his Christmas teacup set was hers. He’s upset that so many of the cups were damaged but I’m excited to give him the one I fixed tomorrow as a present. 

Shortly before it’s two, I have Baz go hide somewhere while I wait for the cockatrice. 

I patrol the lower floors, looking for them. After the sixth time I’ve gone from the kitchen to Mr. Grimm’s office I go look at the clock in the library. It’s fifteen after.

“Baz!” I shout upstairs. “I don’t think they’re coming…”

Baz, being sure to step over the tripwire, comes back downstairs. 

“Snow, something is wrong,” he says.

“The first three never hurt us. The Strix have hurt us. They’ll probably show up in an hour and everything will go back to normal.” 

“Snow....”

“This is a good thing,” I say and wrap an arm around him. “It means more free time. If only we knew that earlier,” I say and lick his neck.

He sighs and rolls his eyes but I also see him trying not to smile. 

“It’ll go back to normal in an hour. We just have to outlive the boredom. What has it been? Like a week since the power went out?” I ask.

“Try two and a half days, but that rounds to seven.”

“It does?”

“No, you numpty. It’s been about a third of a week,” Baz says. 

“Well, it feels like a week. It feels like we’ve been living here alone for months.”

“I can play my violin for you,” Baz offers. 

“Yeah, that sounds okay,” I say.

“I can play Let It Go.”  
  
“What? You know how to play that?” I ask loudly as my excitement significantly increases. 

“It’s not a very complex song.”

“What are you waiting for? Go get your violin,” I say, shooing him away.

He goes back upstairs to get it and I wait for him in the library.

When he comes in, I’m breathing heavily and I realize I’m way more excited for this than anyone should be. It’s just I’ve had that song stuck in my head for like two weeks and without it, it’s like I’m going through withdraws. 

When he starts playing, he also sings! 

“ _The snow glows white on the mountain tonight - Not a footprint to be seen…_ ”

He stops and says, “If you’re not going to sing it with me, I’m not doing this.”

“I’ll sing,” I say quickly, even though I can’t do it on key like he does. 

He starts again and we both dramatically sing, “ _A kingdom of isolation - And it looks like I'm the queen…_ ”

“ _The wind is howling_

_Like this swirling storm inside_

_Couldn’t keep it in_

_Heaven knows I tried…_ ”

“ _Don’t let them in_

_Don’t let them see_

_Be the good girl you always have to be_

_Conceal_

_Don’t feel_ "

I can hear myself go off pitch when we sing, “ _don't let them knowwww_ ,” but Baz hasn’t made fun of my singing before and I don’t think he will, so I keep going.

“ _Well, now they know!_ ”

When we start singing, “ _Let it go, let it go_ ,” Baz is smiling at me in a way I’ve never seen before. His eyes aren’t matching it. 

“ _Can’t hold it back anymore_

_Let it go, let it go_

_Turn away and slam the door!_

_I don’t care what they’re going to say_

_Let the storm rage on_

_The cold never bothered me anyway”_

_“It’s funny how some distance_

_Makes everything seem small_

_And the fears that once controlled me_

_Can’t get to me at all!”_

_“It’s time to see_

_What I can do_

_To test the limits and break through_ ”

My voice cracks singing, “ _No right, no wrong, no rules for me - I'm freeee_ ,” and Baz laughs. But not in a mean way, so I don’t mind. 

After that I stop noticing my voice and start focusing on Baz’s voice. This song sounds a lot different with us singing it instead of Elsa, but with Baz’s voice it still sounds as good.

“ _Let it go! Let it go!_

_I am one with the wind and sky!_

_Let it go! Let it go!_

_You’ll never see me cry!_

_Here I stand and here I’ll stay_

_Let the storm rage on…_ ”

“ _My power flurries through the air into the ground_

_My soul is spiraling in frozen fractals all around_

_And one thought crystallizes like an icy blast_ ”

When I hear Baz sing, “ _I'm never going back, the past is in the paaaaaasst,_ ” I completely lose myself to the song. His voice completely envelops my mind. 

“ _Let it go! Let it go!_

_And I’ll rise like the break of dawn!_

_Let it go! Let it go!_

_That perfect girl is gone!_ ”

“ _Here I stand in the light of day…_

_Let the storm rage on!_ ”

Then the song finishes with, “ _The cold never bothered me anyway_ ,” and I kiss him.

“That was brilliant. Thank you,” I tell him.

“We still have some time to kill. Any other requests?” he asks. 

“Can we sing Let It Go again?”

“Snow…”

“Fine,” I say, then we pick a few more songs. Mostly Beatles songs because there’s not a lot of other music we both know. 

After that we decide to prep the foyer to be dark and wait in there for Baz’s eyes to adjust. The Strix are very organized fighters, so this is the only way to get a good advantage on them still, and they probably won’t try to bust into a bedroom after what happened yesterday. 

While we wait in the dark, I hear Baz start to do his yoga breathing, so I get behind him and wrap my arms around him. It seems to calm him a little. 

I whisper, “Now that you’re mine, the only numpty allowed to restrain you is me.”

Baz laughs and asks, “Is that a threat or a promise?”

“Both,” I say and squeeze him tighter and nip his ear.

After his eyes have adjusted, I wait outside the foyer to listen for any sign of them. When I don’t hear anything, I go in the library to check the time. It’s three after…

I wait another five minutes, then I go get Baz. 

“I don’t think they’re coming…” I say.

“I told you. _Something is wrong_.”

“Okay! Yes. Something is wrong. But I can’t think of any reason they would stop the attack after all this time… Maybe they just ran out of pawns and nothing is going to show up until eleven tonight.”

“This attack has been so coordinated. I can’t imagine Krampus just miscalculated the number of creatures he’d need,” Baz counters. 

“Maybe he’s busy because it’s Christmas Eve. Doesn’t he have a job to do? Shouldn’t he be punishing naughty children or something?” I ask. 

“I don’t think it works like that.”

“You didn’t even know he was real until a few days ago. We have no idea how he works,” I say. 

Baz sighs and says, “Fair enough…”

“So what do we do?”

“I don’t think there’s anything we can do,” he says gravely. 

“So we just wait?” I ask frustraightedly. 

“It’s all we can do,” he says. 

“Fuck that. I’m going out there and I’m going to find him,” I say then call the Sword of Mages as I head for the door. 

“Snow,” Baz says sternly, getting in front of me. “If you go out there, you will die.”

“I’ll be fine,” I say and try to push past him. 

Baz stops me and says, “How do you know that’s not exactly what he wants? Maybe he’s trying to draw you out.”

I stop to think about it, breathing hard. Fuck. He’s probably right. I’d probably slip down the stairs I iced then immediately get eaten alive.

“Fine,” I say and put my sword away. 

We go back to the library and sit down. I can’t sit still though. I feel like any moment something is going to bust through the door or window and attack us. 

I’m about to get up to start practicing with my sword when Baz reminds me, “We should light the lanterns now.”

As we systematically light them across the house, I try to suppress my thoughts on whatever the fuck Krampus is up to and what will happen when people find out about my relationship with Baz. But I can’t do both at the same time so I say, “I know Penny will understand once she’s convinced you haven’t cursed me, but what about Agatha?”

“Are you referring to you being gay or us dating?” he asks. 

“Well, both.”

“You know her better than I do. Has she ever said anything like, ‘I hate gay people,’ or complained about ‘the gay agenda?’” 

“Well, no. But how would you feel if your second choice started dating your first choice?” I ask. 

“Don’t think of yourself as her second choice.”

“I wasn’t,” I say. “I meant you. She picked me first.”

He tilts his head like a confused dog and says, “If you’re her first choice then why’d she leave you for me?”

“She didn’t- This- I-”

“Simon, there’s no way she would like me if she dated me. I don’t even understand why you like me. Well, aside from the looks, intelligence, talent, cooking skills, super strength and night vision.”

“You think I like you for your night vision?” I ask.

He bumps my shoulder with his and smiles. “Whatever she feels, I think she’ll get over it. You two have been friends for as long as we’ve been enemies. She might be a bit confused and hurt, but after she processes it all, I think you’ll find that things between you two won’t have changed much.”

“How did Dev and Neil react when you told them you were gay?”

“They don’t know.”

“Oh. When you said they wouldn’t be happy with the outcome after years of plotting I thought you meant they knew you were gay but just wouldn’t be happy about us. Why don’t they know?” I ask. 

“Telling them never seemed relevant.”

“So who all knows?” I ask. 

“My parents and my aunt.”

I nod, remembering him say his aunt was supportive, then ask, “Are your parents supportive?” 

“I don’t think my stepmother minds. But my father isn’t exactly thrilled about it,” he says. 

“What does that mean?” 

“I think he still expects me to marry a woman. One from a prominent family preferably. Then produce Pitch heirs.”

“But you’re not going to do that?” I ask. 

“Crowley, no. I don’t think vampires can even have children. That’d be a nightmare. I would have considered some kind of farce if I didn’t succeed in turning you gay. But now that I have, there’s nothing in this world that would make me give you up. It’s always been you and only you.”

“Wait. You made me gay?”

“It was my Christmas wish. I was a very good boy this year, so Father Christmas finally caved.”

If it wasn’t for the armor, I would consider spanking him and telling him he’s been a very bad boy. 

Merlin, I wish he wasn’t wearing armor right now. His arse looks impeccably smackable in those yoga pants. It looks soft and inviting but also muscular and sturdy.

I wonder if he just naturally looks like that or if it’s from all the yoga he does. The other footballer’s butts don’t quite have that shape. Baz’s butt has these dimples on it that I just want to run my fingers over. 

“Snow, it was a joke,” he says. 

“What?”

“I wasn’t serious. I didn’t make you gay.”

“Oh. I know. I think it was the yoga pants,” I say.

He stops to look at me and asks, “Are you serious?”

I shrug and he says, “... I don’t even know how to process that,” then goes back to lighting lamps. 

“You know things can’t ‘make’ you gay, right?” he asks. 

“Yeah. I just meant like, the yoga pants convinced me I was gay.”

Baz snorts and when I don’t laugh, he asks, “Are you serious?” again.

I nod and he says, “Please don’t tell me the only thing keeping us apart for seven years was lack of athletic leggings.”

I shrug and he says, “Unbelievable.” 

When we finish lighting the lanterns, we go back to the library and sit. 

Baz is sipping on tea and I’m so bored that I have half a mind to push him on the floor then straddle him. But if something comes to attack us, I don’t want them to catch us off guard. 

I start tapping my foot, feeling antsy. 

The sun goes down and the house, dimly lit with lanterns, looks creepier than usual.

The last week I kept thinking that I wished they would just skip to the new thing each day because the things we’ve already fought were a nuisance, but now that they’re not here I just wish they were. Half because without them I don’t know what their new strategy is and half because I would really like to let off steam and hack something up. I wish I could go into the wavering wood and swing at some trees.

I feel my magic well up so I get up to practice with my sword before I start going off.

I wish I could spar with Baz but I think he’s too afraid to be near me with a weapon drawn now. 

As I swing my sword, I imagine all the creatures I wish I was killing. Slicing perytons, stabbing cockatrice, decapitating Strix. I’m so focused on it that I’m startled when Baz says, “It’s almost four.”

We wait in the hallway in between the library and foyer again. 

It’s only three minutes until four but it feels like hours. Then four o’clock comes and goes. 

I growl in frustration. 

I kick the door to the library hard and it bounces off the wall and hits me in the face so I attack it with my sword.

I vaguely hear Baz say, “Snow…” Then he says, “Snow!” louder and it snaps me out of it. 

“I should just go out there,” I say. “Even if it is a trap, I just need to go off on it, then it’ll be over.”

“Snow, you almost died last night. You’re not invincible.”

I look at the front door, still debating it in my head, then he says, “I don’t want you dead, but if you try, I’m not above crippling you.”

“You wouldn’t,” I say, calling his bluff. 

“You’re right. But I will cast **Baby, It’s Cold Outside** again if I need to.”

It’s a really uncomfortable feeling wanting to hit the person you’re dating.

I sigh and go back into the library. I sit down and bury my head in my hands unsure what else to do. It doesn’t help that it feels later than it is since we woke up so early. 

“Maybe we should do yoga,” Baz suggests. 

“I don’t think we should take off our armor.”

“I don’t think we would need to.”

“Alright,” I say, not having a better idea what to do right now. 

It actually goes surprisingly well in armor. We didn’t even need to take off our gauntlets. 

After Baz walks me through “warrior pose,” he does “reverse warrior pose.” He kinda looks like he’s trying to do the splits while high-fiving the sky. Or maybe backhanding it. 

Then he says, “Oh, fuck.”

“What?” I ask, nervously looking around. 

“... My pauldron,” he says, and stands up straighter, with his arm still reaching for the sky.

I try to stifle my laugh but I can’t. His pauldon is caught on his breastplate. His arm is stuck in the air. He tries to reach for it with the other arm but can’t fix it. This is the complete opposite of graceful. 

“Are you going to stand there and laugh or are you going to help me?” he snaps. 

“Right, sorry,” I say, still laughing a bit. 

I try to unhook the gargoyle horn from the lip of his breastplate but it’s stuck pretty good. I pull harder and Baz hisses and says, “My hair- oww my hair is stuck.”

I try to pull his hair free and he goes, “Oww- oww- stop- stop. You’re just making it worse.”

“Umm. Let me spit on it.”

“ _Do not spit in my hair!_ ” he says in a tone that is not meant to be trifled with. 

“Okay, where are the scissors?” 

He flinches away from me and he kinda looks like he’s trying to alley-oop a basketball. 

“Snow, I swear to Merlin, if you cut my hair, I will break up with you.”

I can’t help but snort and he glares at me. 

“I have an idea,” I say.

“No,” Baz says and takes a step back. 

“No, trust me,” I say, and go to him. He stops moving away from me. 

I unbuckle his pauldron, freeing his arm, then I unhook it from the breastplate. 

“Thanks,” he says, a little reluctantly. 

I help him put it back on, still smiling, but then there’s a bang on the ceiling, making us flinch, followed by a long eerie howl. 

“It’s like he can sense fun,” I grumble. 

“That was _not_ fun,” Baz says, still grumpy over it. He’s like a cat. Can’t be caught doing something ungraceful. 

I get behind Baz, wrap my arms around him and bury my face in the crook of his neck. The sense of impending doom is back and I’m feeling a mix of wanting to be protective of Baz and wanting a distraction. I wish there weren't steel plates between us, but there’s no way we’re taking these off until Christmas. 

I sigh glumly into his neck. He looks at the clock and says, “Ten minutes until five.”

“I know,” I grumble. 

I let go of him and we draw our swords. We wait and the anticipation is so much worse, not knowing if they’re coming. If they were showing up like normal, that anticipation would be manageable. But not knowing, it’s hard for me too keep my guard up because I’m losing hope that they’ll show up. And that would be a good thing except I know something will show up at some point. So I have to be ready.

Normally by now, that feeling of dread Perchta brings would kick in. But the absence of it leaves a different kind of dread. One that I know is real and not a magical illusion. 

It’s after ten when my stomach growls. 

“We should eat,” Baz says. 

“No. I don’t want to be in the middle of something when they show up.”

“You have to eat sometime.”

The thought of the stew is tempting, but I can’t let my guard down. Something could show up any minute. 

“Fine,” Baz says, and sits down. 

I sit with him.

“I’m really glad you and I are being attacked by The Humdrum,” I say. 

“What?”

“I just mean, I wouldn’t have wanted to bring this upon Penny or Agatha,” I explain.

“But bringing this upon me is fine?”

“No. But your family is gone so... “ I don’t know how to word it. 

“You and I alone together is the best worst case scenario. I’m sure you and Bunce could have also survived this together too, but all her younger siblings are there, I’m assuming.”

Merlin, I miss her. And Agatha. 

“So, why didn’t you go with Bunce or Wellbelove for the holiday?” he asks. 

“Normally I spend Christmas with Agatha. Her parents like me, I think. But after we broke up she uninvited me. I still don’t understand why. I thought we were still friends…”

Baz holds my hand and says, “I don’t know if this helps or makes it worse, but I don’t think she thought about how that would make you feel. If she did, I don’t think she would have done that. I think she’s a bit self absorbed. Eventually she’ll realize that that was cruel.”

I shrug. I don’t know if any of that is true. But if we die here, and she realizes that, it’ll be her last memory of me. I don’t want that. I wish I could have taken the breakup better and tried harder to let her know we could still be friends. 

“What about Bunce?” he asks. 

I shrug again, then say, “I could have gone to her house, but I would have just been a burden.”

“I highly doubt Bunce thinks that.”

“What about you? Why didn’t you go with your parents?” I ask. 

“Just the logistics of being a vampire. Having to find prey.”

“Oh, where did they go?”

“My stepmother’s parent’s hunting lodge in Northumberland,” he says. 

“Hunting lodge? Like in Kielder Forest?”

He nods. 

“You didn’t go because you didn’t think you’d be able to find animals at a hunting lodge, in a massive forest?” I ask. 

Baz sighs then says, “I suppose I also thought it would be a bit awkward being around her side of the family considering I’m not part of it.”

“Oh, is she not nice to you?”

“No, she’s lovely. She’s always been very kind to me. That’s why she went out of her way to make so many fruitcakes for me before they left.”

“So, if I didn’t come over, you would have spent all this time alone?” I ask.

He nods.

“We’ve both been really stupid, haven’t we?” I ask.

“I think so. I think everything did work out for the best, but it was just a happy accident. I have to admit… I miss my family.”

“I know this is selfish, but I wish Penny was here. I bet she’d know what to do for this situation.”

“I wish my aunt was here,” he says. 

I shudder and say, “I don’t.”

“Why?”

“ _She’s evil._ Last time I saw her she spelled my feet into the ground,” I say.

Baz laughs and says, “She’ll be nicer to you once she knows you’re mine… Hopefully.”

“That’s really reassuring,” I say sarcastically. 

“Don’t worry. I won’t let her hurt you,” he says. 

My stomach growls loudly and Baz says, “You really need to eat.”

“It’s almost six. The harpies could show up.”

Baz looks at the clock and sighs. 

We put our helmets on and wait. We wait for about fifteen minutes, listening for them. But the only sounds are the ones my stomach is making.

When we decide to take off our helmets, Baz says, “You need to eat.”

“But-”

“You can hardly function on an empty stomach. If the harpies come while you’re eating, you can throw the stew in their faces and blind them. They’re not going to kill you because they came at a bad time.”

“... Fine.”

We’re going to die anyways. Whatever Krampus has in store for us today is going to be worse than everything else.

We go in the kitchen and Baz fixes us a couple of bowls. We sit on the stools in the kitchen to eat. 

I try a bite and it is delicious. If I thought we would survive this, I think I would definitely marry him. I don’t think I could live a life knowing this food was out there and I couldn’t have it.

He was right too. I was cutting the vegetables wrong. These are the perfect size and shape.

I think this is a good last meal. Roast beef would have been better. But this is a close second. 

I sigh when I realize that scoffle was probably the last scone I’m going to ever have.

“What’s wrong?” Baz asks with a lisp, not bothering to hide his fangs. 

I shrug.

“Is there something wrong with the stew?” he asks. 

“No. The stew is really good…”

“What were you thinking about just now?” he asks.

“Scones.”

“Scones?” Baz asks, confused. 

“Yeah.”

He gives me a look that must mean something along the lines of, “explain to me what that means before I lose my self control and snap you in half,” so I say, “I’m just wishing my last scone was a proper scone.”

He sets down his food and his fangs retract. 

“... Simon. That isn’t going to be your last scone.”

I shrug. I think it was. 

“This morning you seemed pretty confident about today,” he says.

“Well, that was when I thought I knew what to expect. Now I don’t. We have been scraping by for weeks and today they’re going to hit us with everything they have.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Why wouldn’t they? This is their last chance,” I say, then continue eating my stew. 

“We shouldn’t assume anything.”

I shrug again. 

“Okay. Yes, they probably are going to hit us the hardest today, but we’re extremely powerful mages. We’re more than capable of defending ourselves,” he says.

“Powerful enough to fight an army?”

“It could be one lord leaping twelve times,” he reminds me. 

I shrug. 

“If you shrug again I’m going to take away your stew.”

“You’re the one making me eat it!”

He shrugs. 

I growl and he smiles at me. Not a loving smile. It’s the kind he used to give me when he said something shitty that I couldn’t just brush off. 

I glare at him and his smile turns into a more friendly one but with concerned eyes.

“If you expect to lose, we’ve already lost. We need to win,” he tells me. 

I fight the urge to shrug. I don’t want him to take my stew. 

He goes back to eating and when he’s done, he rinses his bowl in the sink, then leans back against the counter. I’m thankful he didn’t leave because I don’t think we should separate and I wanna keep eating. 

When he sees my bowl is empty, he wordlessly refills it for me. I think I actually do love him. _I love Baz_.

As always, his skin looks gorgeous in the lamplight. (Or any light really.)

It’s so weird to think how two weeks ago he was my enemy and now he’s my boyfriend. _Basilton Grimm-Pitch is my boyfriend._

I wolf down the rest of my stew, set the bowl down, and go up to him, leaning against him. Our breastplates clink, and I kiss him. I love that I can do stuff like this with him now. 

I slip my tongue in his mouth and it still tastes like stew and I love it. (Or maybe it’s my mouth that tastes like stew.)

Baz pushes me off him gently and I look at him confused, and he says, “I don’t want my fangs to come out with your tongue in there. I haven’t fed today…” 

“Oh, I didn’t even think about that. Are you okay?”

“Yes. I don’t need to feed everyday, but things start to get difficult when I don’t.”

When I don’t say anything, he kisses me on the forehead then gets my bowl and rinses it in the sink.

He goes back into the library and I follow him. He picks up his violin and I’m about to tell him I’m not in the mood to sing, but then he starts playing something I don’t recognize. Something somber. 

So, I sit and listen. 

This goes on for a while before I hear something I recognize. 

“Is this from Game of Thrones?” I ask. 

He doesn’t stop playing but says, “Yes. It’s _The Rains of Castamere_.”

“Aren’t you afraid of jinxing us? Isn’t that what they played right before the red wedding?”

“The ones playing it didn’t die.”

He’s got me there, but the song is still morbid. 

When it’s almost seven, we prepare ourselves again. We take out our weapons and wait. 

I know I should be paying attention to sounds or signs of creatures, but I can’t take my eyes off the clock. I watch the seconds tick by for an enerity. 

Once again, the hour comes and goes. 

I stomp back to the couch and lay on it. 

I swear, if they don’t show up today and are still around tomorrow, I’m going to go nuclear and destroy all of Hampshire. It’s the Twelve Days of Christmas. _Twelve_. Not thirteen. 

“Simon, calm down before you light something on fire,” Baz says. 

Oh, I can feel my magic leaking again. 

“Sit up,” he says and I lean up enough for him to sit on the couch, then I lay back down over his lap. 

He pets my hair and ask, “Do you still think we’re going to die?”

I shrug. It’s not like he can take my stew now. 

Baz just sighs and pets me more. I kinda feel like a lapdog. It’s a little concerning because I kinda like it. 

We sit quietly like that and after a while I feel myself start to get sleepy, so I get up and start pacing. 

“Snow, don’t exert yourself. Save your energy.”

“I have to stay alert,” I say, not stopping.

“It’s less than five hours until Christmas.”

“So?”

“So, presumably this will all be over then,” he says. 

“We don’t know that.”

“You’re right. But I think it will be. And I think the blizzard will clear and you’ll be able to call Bunce and I’ll be able to call my aunt,” he says. 

“We definitely can’t invite them over at the same time, if that’s what you’re thinking. They’d tear each other apart.”

He gets up, gets behind me and wraps his arms around me.

“I was thinking we could spend Christmas alone. Just you and I without interruptions,” he says and smells my hair. 

He must like the smell because he nuzzles my head. I feel myself melt a little into his embrace. 

“That sounds nice,” I admit. 

It would be amazing to finally have truly alone time with him. And his yoga pants. Or maybe without his yoga pants. 

“Then after Christmas I can introduce you to my family,” he says. 

“Won’t your dad be angry? Considering he wants you to marry a girl.” 

“Undoubtedly. But he’ll refrain from making a scene and my stepmother will be polite.”

“What about your siblings?” I ask.

“The only one old enough to care is Mordelia. I think you two will bond over your love for Frozen. Do you like kids?”

“Usually not. But most of the kids I meet are vicious sociopaths in care. I like Penny’s siblings though.”

“Well, I can’t promise Mordelia isn’t a sociopath, but she’s polite enough,” he says. 

He takes me by the hand and leads me back to the couch. When we sit down he turns and puts his legs on my lap.

“Will Bunce like me?” he asks. 

“She’s not really into making new friends.”

“She won’t make an exception for your boyfriend?”

“I guess she would. But after seven years of telling her how evil you are, I’m not sure. I’m not even sure we could convince her you didn’t cast a love spell on me.”

He stares at me and I think about what I just said and realized I need to clarify. “Not that I love you.”

He blinks and I say, “Not that I don’t love you. Well- It’s just- I just meant-”

“Snow, it’s fine. You don’t have to figure that out right now… But, would it be a problem if she didn’t like me?”

“Kinda.”

He frowns. 

“But I’m sure if I’m happy, she won’t cause problems. What about your friends?”

“I think it’s safe to say that Dev and Neil will no longer be saving me a seat at breakfast,” he says. 

“I’m sorry,” I say quietly. I hate the idea that he’s going to lose his friends because of me. 

“It’s fine. They were boring anyways.”

“You can sit with us at breakfast,” I offer. 

“I think I will,” he says and smiles at me. 

I smile back and he asks, “Have I succeeded in getting you excited to live through today?”

“That’s what you’ve been doing?”

“Yes.”

“I guess you have. The future actually seems a bit brighter now. Plus, now that you’re on our side, we don’t have to worry about the political war and we can focus on The Humdrum together,” I say. 

“Your side? You mean with The Mage?”

“Yeah.”

“Simon, I still have a duty to fight The Mage… That hasn’t changed.”

“But-”

I’m interrupted by loud screeching. 

_Harpies._

__


	14. The Twelfth Day of Christmas: Part II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On the twelfth day of Christmas Krampus gave to me: twelve lords a leaping, eleven ladies dancing, ten pipers piping, nine drummers drumming, eight maids a milking, seven swans a swimming, six geese a laying, five golden rings, four Colly birds, three French hens, two turtle doves, and a partridge in a peartree.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this has taken so long to post!  
> Six months late. My bad.  
> But I think I've figured how why I've been writing so slowly, so hopefully I'll be able to write stories faster for now on. :)
> 
> Also.  
> At the end of the previous chapter, chapter 13: The Twelfth Day if Christmas: Part I, there’s a new picture of the layout of the basement.

**Tuesday, Christmas Eve (Continued)**

  
We get up and put our helmets on. It sounds like it’s coming from the stairs room so we trot down the hall. 

The screeching becomes deafening before we get there so Baz casts, “ **_Silent night! Holy night!_ **” and everything goes quiet.

When we get to the stair room, it’s flooded with white harpies. Only a couple notice us because they couldn’t hear us come in, but the couple that did swoop down to attack us.

Baz throws his dagger at one, and it completely misses, hitting another in the wing alerting it to our presence as well. 

I swing my sword at the one that swoops over me, lopping it’s taloned foot off. 

Baz jumps and rolls out of the way of the two going after him, causing them to crash into each other and tumble to the floor. 

The one I maimed is on the floor so I run to it and decapitate it. When I look back at Baz, he’s doing the same to the two on the floor. 

I almost don’t notice it in the chaos of what’s happening, but I see two perytons fly in from the broken skylight and soar right at us. 

There’s not enough time to warn Baz since he can’t hear me, so I grab him by the arm and pull him out of the room. He doesn’t resist and starts running with me down the hall. 

If we’re fast enough, we can run to the kitchen and loop around through the dining room to flank them.

As we run past the foyer and library, cockatrice run into the hall from the kitchen. One brings it’s head back, preparing to breathe fire at us, and I shove baz hard to the left, throwing him into the bathroom. I close the door and cast, “ **_Stay put!_ **”

The cockatrice’s fire isn’t close enough to burn me, but I feel it’s heat. 

I go right into the dining room and get under the table. 

The perytons come in after me, but they don’t see me. I feel the vibrations as they land on the table. I know they can’t hear me but I try to stay as quiet and still as possible. 

After a few minutes I see them fly back into the hall.

I sit back to catch my breath. I wish I could hear. This is all really disorienting being surrounded by things and no way to hear what’s going on. 

I should probably start trying to kill some things. 

I look around before getting up, and right next to me is a cockatrice about to light me on fire. I instinctively go to push it away and the movement causes my sword to slit its throat. 

“Fuck. **_I wish I could hear._ **”

Sound roars to life around me. I hear flames coming from the kitchen and a harpie scream from the other side of the house.

I flinch when I hear rumbling then Krampus howling on the roof.

I quietly get up from under the table then peer out the door into the hallway. 

The wall the bathroom door is on is on fire so I quietly cast, “ **_Make a wish!_ **” The fire goes out and nothing is rushing out to attack me so I don’t think anything heard me.

I tiptoe toward the kitchen, where I hear more burning sounds and a “ _Brahaaaahk!_ ”

When I get close, I see a cockatrice run across the kitchen but luckily it didn’t see me. 

I start going a little faster to get the drop on them, and I fall face first over the tripwire. The loud clatter of armor hitting tile ecos around me. I scrabble back to my feet and bring my sword up, ready to swing at whatever comes. 

But nothing comes. 

I tiptoe closer to the kitchen and I peek around the corner and the two cockatrice are walking around completely oblivious to me. The island counter is also on fire.

I whistle at them and they don’t notice me. They’re just pecking at cupboards. 

“HEY!” I shout. 

They don’t look at me. I guess I’m the only one that can hear.

I look behind me to make sure there’s no perytons or harpies coming at me, but the hall is clear. 

I run up behind one of the cockatrice and decapitate it. The other turns to look at me and before it can light me on fire, I punt it. It hits the counter, and falls over. As it scrambles to get up, I run up to it and raise my sword high and bring it down, hacking it into two.

I “ **_make a wish!_ **” the counter and grab the knife block Baz is always using. It’s surprisingly heavy. 

I go to the staircase to the cellar and take stairs that lead upstairs. I haven’t used this one before but I think it goes to Baz’s parents bedroom. 

I go up it and emerge in the hallway outside of the bedroom as expected. I make my way down the hall to the main stairs room.

I freeze when I see a harpie perched on the railing in front of me. It’s facing away so it doesn’t see me. 

The harpies aren’t all screeching constantly like they do when they can hear. They must not see a point in it if they think we can’t hear. 

I take a knife out of the knife block and aim like Baz does. I throw it and it falls on the floor before it even reaches the harpy. 

Fuck, Baz must throw these really hard. 

I slowly creep closer and take another knife out. I aim and throw it at the harpy. The handle of the knife hits the harpy on the foot. It turns around and screeches and I drop the knife block to try to cover my ears over my helmet. 

It flies at me, pushes me over and lands on top of me. I reach down to my hip, call my sword, then swing it upward, slicing it in half over me. 

I close my eyes as blood and guts rain over me, then the two halves of the body fall on me with a hard thud.

After I shove it off, I realize that since the cockatrice are dead, Baz can help. I hit my head on the floor in frustration. He can do his badass parkour stuff to the harpies while I watch. 

After taking off my helmet to wipe the blood from my face and putting it back on, I trot back to the stairs, go down, then through the kitchen over the tripwire and to the bathroom. 

When I open the door, Baz looks at me with his eyes wide and his fangs come out. It makes me flinch and Baz covers his mouth, looking upset. 

“Oh, sorry... I forgot. You haven’t fed today. It’s fine,” I say, trying to reassure him.

Baz looks at me confused, then takes out his wand and casts, “ **_Clean as a whistle!_ **” and all the blood whirls off of me. 

“Can you hear me?” I ask. 

“Baz takes out the sleighbells and is about to cast the spell to allow him to hear, but I push the hand he’s holding them with down and shake my head.

I beckon him to follow me and poke my head out. I don’t see anything so I lead him to the cockatrice. 

I point to my mouth and make a chomping motion then point to the dead cockatrice to try to get him to eat it. He frowns at me and I roll my eyes. 

I turn away to give him some privacy, and I hear his armor clank as he kneels to the floor. After a few minutes I hear him get up, so I turn around. He flinches when he sees me looking at him then glares at me.

“Oh, I wasn’t watching. I just turned around now,” I say.

He looks at me blankly. I growl at the situation and he looks confused.

I pull him back to the stairs I went up before, then I bring him to the knife block I left on the floor. 

When he bends down to pick it up, I hear a peryton screech. I swivel around and see them flying out of Baz’s parents bedroom. 

I frantically tap Baz and he stands and turns around. As soon as he sees them, he throws his antler dagger at one and misses.

“What the hell is wrong with your aim?” I shout even though he can’t hear me.

I slice the first one coming at me in half, but I don’t have time to bring my sword up before the other one gets to me. All I can do I grab onto its antlers as it pushes me backward. 

We crash through the railing and I hold on tight as we spiral through the air, into the stairs room filled with harpies. They screech and start fluttering around us. It takes all my willpower to hold onto the antlers instead of covering my ears.

As we spin to the ground I see Baz, with my sword, jump onto the shoulders of a hovering harpy. It starts screeching and flying around trying to buck him off.

I lose sight of him as the peryton turns. I’m holding onto it so hard, the antlers cut through the leather of my gauntlet, into my left hand. When I look it in the eyes, it screeches at me and I see it’s ridiculous fangs in its beak.

When we hit the ground, I slam it’s antlers into the hardwood floor as hard as I can. Behind it I see a harpy drop to the floor dead, and behind me I hear Baz yell, “Catch!” 

I turn and he throws my sword to me. I catch it and bring it down on the peryton, killing it.

I turn back to Baz, who’s stabbing the harpy he’s riding. They tumble to the floor together but only Baz gets up.

I’m about to go to him when I get lifted into the air. I flail for a moment, confused by what’s happening but then I look up and see the last harpy. 

I swing my sword up into it, before it takes me higher than the second story, eviscerating it and covering myself with gore for the second time. 

I flail as I fall to the floor. I brace for the impact, but then Baz catches me in his arms. 

He looks down at me and smiles. Then his fangs pop out. 

“Merlin, I love you,” I say out loud without thinking. 

Thank magic, he can’t hear me right now.

I would kiss him, but I doubt he wants that while I’m covered in blood and his fangs are out. 

He sets me down and spells me clean. He looks around then gets out the sleighbells and looks at me for approval. 

After I count seven harpies, three cockatrice and two perytons in my head, I nod. 

We both take off our helmets as he rings the bells and says, “ **_Christmas bells are ringing - joyous voices sweet and clear!_ **”

“Can you hear me?” I ask. 

“Were you able to hear the whole time?” he asks. 

“Pretty much.”

“How?”

I shrug.

“You don’t know?” he asks. 

“I just said ‘I wish I could hear,’ and I could.”

“Are you telling me you can make wishes come true with magic?”

I shrug and say, “Sometimes.” 

“Wish for The Humdrum and Krampus to be dead, you daft dimbo,” he snaps.

“Uhh. I wish The Humdrum and Krampus were dead,” I say. 

“Do you think it worked?” 

I shake my head and say, “No.”

“Say it again then.”

“I don’t think it works like that,” I say. 

“How does it work then?”

“I don’t know. It just happens in dire circumstances sometimes.”

“These circumstances aren’t dire enough for you?” he asks. 

I shrug. 

“ _Stop shrugging,_ ” he snaps.

“I’m sorry,” I say. “I just can’t control my magic… No matter how hard I try… I just can’t.”

Baz wraps his arms around me and buries his face in my neck. I wrap my arms around him. 

He murmurs, “I forgive you for being useless,” against my skin.

I can’t help but laugh and say, “I’m not totally useless. I did save you.”

“I suppose you did,” he agrees. 

I take in the cedar and bergamot scent of his hair then kiss his head. 

“Can you heal my hand?” I ask. 

We let go of each other and he takes my left hand to inspect it. The cut isn’t the worst cut in the world, but it might need stitches without magic.

He points his bow at it and says, “ **_Get well soon!_ **” 

The warmth of his magic spreads across my palm and through my fingers as it heals. 

I put my healed hand on the back of his head, but before I can kiss him, we hear loud banging from the other side of the house making us jump.

There’s a long howl, then rumbling from the ceiling sounding like he ran off. 

We go down the hall and as we get to the kitchen, there’s loud thumping coming from the cellar. Something is coming up the stairs. 

“Is it a Minotaur?” I ask Baz.

“I don’t know,” he says. 

When I see leaves and pears poke up from the stairs, I say, “It’s the fucking tree!” 

“It’s a fucking ent,” Baz says. 

The tree must have heard us because it starts running up the steps with it’s split trunk legs, stepping on the caltrops, paying them no mind and going into the kitchen. 

It’s huge. It must be like almost twelve feet tall. 

As it runs at us, Baz throws a fireball at it. The tree ignites, stops, then whips a vine at me. 

I hack it off with my sword, then unsure what to do I look at Baz. Normally we light it on fire then push it into the blizzard. Now that it’s in the house, pushing it away would just knock it into a wall which would be bad considering it’s on fire. 

Baz just blasts it with more fire as it starts running at us again.

I pull Baz back and he takes the queue to start running away from it. We jump over the tripwire and run down the hall.

We look back when there’s a loud thud. The tree fell over the tripwire and the hallway is catching on fire. 

It quickly gets back up and starts running at us.

“Maybe if we can keep it at bay long enough, it’ll burn out,” Baz says, as we go into the library, closing the doors behind us. 

He points his bow at the doors and casts, “ **_Close the gates!_ **”

When it gets to the doors, it starts pounding on them. We can see it through a hole already in the door. These doors are already really messed up. They’re not going to hold for long. 

The tree sends in a vine through the hole and wraps it around Baz’s forearm and starts yanking him in. I quickly get in front of him and slice the vine off.

The door is in flames now. I don’t know how long it’ll take for the tree to burn and die. 

It bangs on the door again and the flaming door comes flying of it’s hinges. It’s about to hit Baz so I cast “ **_Fus ro dah!_ **” at it to push it away.

It swings another vine at me and I hack it off. It does the same to Baz and he deflects it with his kopech. 

The fire from the library threshold is spreading further into the room. The heat of it is making me sweat.

While we’re dodging and deflecting vines, Baz starts casting, “ **_Make a wish!_ **” at the fire, but there’s too much of it. It spreads faster than he can put it out. 

I get closer to the trunk and start trying to hack. It throws me back with a branch, and I topple over the couch. 

Smoke and the smell of burning pears fills the room as the tree burns. It’s starting to slow down. I think it’s dying. But half the library is ablaze. 

I quickly get back up and charge at it again and shove my sword into the trunk as hard as I can. 

The tree stills then falls over.

Baz is still repeatedly casting “ **_Make a wish!_ **” as the flames close in on us. 

I take out my wand and cast, “ **_Raining cats and dogs!_ **” 

Rain pours from the ceiling, extinguishing all the flames. 

Baz stomps over to me, with his hair dripping wet. I know he’s going to be unhappy about having to dry the whole house again, so I start saying, “I had to-” then he puts a hand on the back of my neck and another on the small of my back, pulling me to him, and kisses me. 

I close my eyes and wrap my arms around him to hold on as he tilts me back. 

I kiss him like nothing else matters because right now it really doesn’t. He’s safe, and I’m where I’m supposed to be. In his arms. I feel my whole body relax under him. The pitter-patter of the rain lulls me and it feels like time slows down.

We stay like that for ages but eventually he breaks away and the rain crashing down seems louder. 

He takes out his bow and casts, “ ** _Rain, rain, go away!_** **_Come again another day!_** ” 

There’s a loud scream and he flinches, but he finishes with “ **_Daddy wants to play! Rain, rain go away!_ **” and the rain stops. The screaming continues. 

Baz casts, “ **_Ashes to ashes! Dust to dust!_ **” on the tree to get it out of the way, then go to the stairs room where the screams are coming from.

We freeze when we see a room full of gremlins spasming and multiplying. Boils are forming on them then splitting off, growing into new gremlins. There’s easily over fifty of them.

They’re all growling, cackling and yelling. But they aren’t the ones screaming. 

Under piles of them, there’s Strix. The gremlins are clawing them, ripping them apart. There’s so much red.

The gremlins must have turned on them when it started raining, after the Strix carried them in through the broken skylight. 

A couple of the gremlins are playing catch with a decapitated Strix head. Some of them have taken one of the Strix’s shields and are using it like a sled on the stairs. 

After those poor Strix finally die, I realize the gremlins don’t seem to notice us so we slowly back away. 

I accidentally lean too close to Baz and our armor clinks. 

The growling, cackling and yelling goes silent as they all turn to look at us. 

“Oh, fuck.”

As we turn to run I hear them all go back to yelling as they begin to chase us. 

Baz starts running ahead of me as we go down the hall and when he realizes I’m not keeping up, he takes my hand and pulls me along. The thruming of hundreds of gremlin feet fills the hall as the hoard chases after us.

When we’ve made it to the kitchen, I look back and see them literally climbing over each other, trying to get to us. 

Baz pulls me up the stairs that go to his parents room. When we get to the top, Baz shoves me behind him then shoots down a steady stream of fire at everything coming up the stairs. Luckily with all the walls wet, the house isn’t catching on fire. 

I think this is actually working. They can’t seem to make it through the fire. 

After a couple minutes though, the growing pile of charred gremlins is shoved into us, making us stumble backward. As soon as Baz stops the flames, a gremlin jumps from the pile, onto him. 

It tries to attack his face but he’s able to block it with the armor on his arms. I use my sword to slice it in half, then help Baz up. 

More gremlins start jumping, from the pile, down to us.

Baz and I attack them with our swords, killing at least a dozen of them, but more and more keep coming. Eventually it’s too many to take on at once, so we run again. 

We run past his parents bedroom, pretty much across the house until we’re back in the stairs room. When we get there, it’s still full of gremlins. Maybe more than before. They’re still multiplying. And there’s still the ones chasing us. 

Baz turns to fight the ones chasing us, and I get ready to fight the ones in the stairs room. When they notice us they start cackling. 

There’s so many. There must be over a hundred of them closing in on us. 

There’s a beckoning whistle and they all stop and look around. I look around too and out of the shadows, hooded figures slowly start creeping out. 

What the actual fuck are these things?

The closest one to me is coming from the hall Baz’s room is in. I can’t tell what it looks like. It just looks like a shadow floating towards me.

A female voice yells, “ **_Making spirits bright!_ **” and the creatures turn into a blinding light. I have to use my hand to shield my eyes. 

The gremlins screech and quiver as they turn to stone around us.

There’s a distant howl as if Krampus is mourning the death of these 80’s relic garbage monsters. 

“Okay! That’s enough. You can go back to hiding,” the voice says, and the creatures turn dark and disappear back into the shadows they came from.

I look around for the voice and I see Penny in the middle of the stairs room! She’s with Fiona. 

I go to the lower level, then step over the tripwire and hurry down the steps avoiding stone gremlins. 

When I get to her I wrap my arms around her and say, “I missed you so much!”

Baz pulls me back and I look at him, confused. 

“No ‘thank you,’ for saving your arse?” Fiona asks Baz. 

Baz eyes her with a concerned look on his face.

“This could be the satyr,” Baz says. 

I look at Penny and she asks, “What’s going on?”

I put my hand on the hilt of my sword and ask Penny, “What’s something only you would know?”

She thinks for a moment, then says, “Oh! Remember when we were first years and you begged me to get sweets for you from the loo and I was really confused but after some questioning I realized you had seen the tampon dispenser and when you asked Agatha what it was, she said it was a sweets machine. Then I had to explain female anatomy to you?”

Baz and Fiona laugh and I let go of my sword as my cheeks heat up from embarrassment. 

“You royally fucked up the house, didn’t you, boyo,” Fiona says to Baz then hugs him.

“It was Simon,” he says.

“Oi! You said you’d say it was you!” I say. 

Baz rolls his eyes and says, “It was a joint effort. How’d you get through the blizzard?”

“We’ve been trying to get here for days,” Penny says, 

“‘We?’” Baz asks. 

“I was staying at the inn that’s ten minutes from here, because I couldn’t get a cabbie willing to take me here,” Fiona explains. “The mobiles don’t have service here so I went to the front desk every day to talk to taxi services and after a while I realized this mageling was trying to do the same thing. At first I didn’t believe her. I thought there was no way you would invite the chosen one over, but she was persistent about joining efforts to get here and here you are now with him.”

“Eventually we did find a cabbie willing to take us. Now, what’s going on? Who is malicious enough to ice your steps and send gremlins after you?” Penny asks, gesturing at everything.

“The steps? Are you okay?” I ask, feeling guilty. 

“I think I might have bruised my tailbone.”

“At least you have padding,” Fiona says to Penny, rubbing her backside. (Her own backside, that is. Not Penny’s.)

Penny glares at her.

“The Humdrum sent Krampus after me. Krampus has been sending the twelve days of Christmas,” I explain. 

“Krampus?” Penny asks, confused. 

Baz elaborates further, explaining the creatures we’ve been dealing with and warning them about the traps set up throughout the house.

After they’re caught up, we go to the dining room as Baz goes into the kitchen to fix everyone's tea. 

Penny and Fiona are sitting opposite of me.

“So, what has it been like being stuck here with Baz all this time?” Penny asks. 

Fiona’s eyes narrow on me. 

“Uhh- Other than the attacks it hasn’t been so bad,” I say. 

“He attacked you?” Penny asks, sounding surprised.

“No! I meant the creatures. Baz has been lovely,” I quickly say. 

Penny’s eyebrows furrow and Fiona arches an eyebrow just like Baz. 

Penny looks at Fiona and says, “Oh… We’ll talk about this later.” 

I think she thinks I’m afraid to tell the truth around Fiona. But I’m not. In fact, I think I should tell her about Baz and I. 

“Uhh- Penny?”

“What?” she asks. 

“Baz and I…” It’s really hard to just say it. 

“We can talk about it later,” she says, gesturing to Fiona with her eyes. 

“No. Uhh. It’s fine. It’s just. Well. Baz and I are… Kinda…”

They both look at me expectantly. 

“We’re kinda… Dating,” I say. 

“What?” they both ask at the same time. 

Then Penny asks “You’re gay?” at the same time as Fiona says, “Basil wouldn’t settle for you.”

Oh. Maybe I shouldn’t have told his aunt. I figured it was okay because she knew he was gay already. 

“How did you figure out you’re gay?” Penny asks. 

“Baz told me,” I say as Baz walks in with the tray of tea.

Fiona laughs hard and Penny angrily says, “Basil! You _told_ him he was gay?”

Baz sets the tray down and says, “It’s not my fault he’s too oblivious to figure it out on his own,” as he starts pouring tea for everyone. 

“Simon,” Penny says. “He can’t just _tell you_ that you’re gay... “

“There was more to it than that,” I try to explain. 

She points her ring at me and says, “ **_Are you out of your mind?_ **”

“What? No!” I say. 

“Bunce, did you really think I would spell him gay?” Baz asks as he puts her teacup in front of her.

“Honestly, maybe,” she says, still sounding upset. 

Fiona keeps cackling like she’s in on a joke that we’re not.

Baz frowns at his teacup, which isn’t one from the matching Christmas set that the three of us are using, and says, “Fiona, this isn’t a plot. Snow and I are actually dating.”

She stops laughing but smirks like she knows he’s lying. Which he’s not. Right?

“You still call him ‘Snow’ and expect me to believe you’re genuinely dating him?” Penny asks, incredulously. 

“When the succubi came, they had no effect on him,” Baz explains. “Then incubi came and they had a very powerful effect. I just explained to him what that meant.”

She looks at me for confirmation and I nod but she still looks skeptical. 

“Okay,” Penny says. “Even if that is true, and Simon is gay, why would either of you date each other?”

Baz sits down, takes a sip of tea and says, “He wouldn’t stop begging and it was the only way to shut him up.”

Penny’s jaw drops as Fiona snorts and I hiss, “Not helping,” to him. 

“He’s joking,” I assure them. “Right? You’re joking?”

Baz sighs and says, “I can’t speak for why Snow has chosen to date me, but…”

He seems nervous, so I take his hand and he says, “I’ve had feelings for Snow for as long as I’ve known him.”

“What kind of feelings?” Penny asks, staring him down. 

“I love him,” Baz says. 

Fiona laughs, then Penny says, “So, if I cast **liar, liar, pants on fire** , you’ll be fine?” 

Fiona stands up so fast her chair falls over and points her wand at Penny. Penny doesn’t bat an eye and just looks at Baz expectantly. 

If she casts that, and Baz is lying, he will ignite, so I say, “Penelope, don’t!”  
  
Baz is staring right back at Penny and says, “Fiona, put your wand down. It’s fine. Bunce, cast it. _I love Simon Snow._ ”

As I shout, “Stop!” Penny points her ring at Baz and casts, “ **_Liar, liar, pants on fire!_ **”

Fiona and I both go wide eyed and look at Baz. 

Nothing happens. 

“Believe me now?” Baz asks Penny.

Penny still looks dubious.

“Basil, for fuck’s sake! How could you love _The Mage’s heir_?” Fiona complains. 

Baz gives her his bored look, then in an instant she picks her wand back up from the table and says, “ **_Hit the floor!_ **”

Everyone is spelled out of their chair, landing on the floor followed by a loud crashing sound on the table. 

I see her stand back up and hear her cast, “ **_Come on over, do the twist, overdo it and have a fit!_ **” 

There’s a crash behind me and I turn around and see a Minotaur on the ground, just outside the door, groaning and spasming in pain. It’s torso looks twisted... 

It’s kind of terrifying how easily she can take down a Minotaur. I knew the Pitches are powerful, but Jesus Christ. 

Baz gets up and runs over to it then slices it’s head off with his kopech. 

“How the hell did it sneak up on us?” I ask as I get back up.

The table has a huge axe embedded in it right where I was sitting. I think Fiona saved me. 

Baz yells, “Simon, run!”

I trust Baz enough that I don’t even need to question it. I run out into the hallway and together we run towards the library. 

I look back and say, “What about Fiona and Penny?” I don’t see them. Why aren’t they running with us?

“They can take care of themselves,” he says and pulls me by my hand into the library.

As soon as we enter the room, three Minotaur jump through the windows. _Three._

I’m gawking so Baz pulls me away. He starts dragging me to the stairs room then we run into another Minotaur. 

Baz turns around, pulling me with, and runs into the foyer.

“In here,” he says as he pulls me into the coat closet and casts, “ **_Close the gates!_ **” on the door, locking it. 

“We can’t just hide,” I complain. 

“There’s too many of them,” Baz says. “Plus you saw how easily my aunt killed one.”

“But we should help.”

“We’re safe here. Let’s stay for a little while,” he says. 

He wraps his arms around me and kisses my neck. His lips are hot against my skin.

I’m surprised he’s being so calm in the dark.

He kisses his way up my face to my mouth then we start snogging. This seems like an inappropriate time to do this… But this does feel nice. It’s relaxing. 

I feel my eyes becoming droopy as I notice this feels different. He’s ungracefully shoving his tongue in my mouth and I feel like I can hardly breathe. His tongue is hot and I don’t taste the tea he was drinking. 

I try to break from the kiss but he holds me in place. I’m feeling too weak to fight it, but I grab some of his hair and smell it. It smells really good, like honeysuckle and strawberry… But it’s definitely not cedar and bergamot. 

I bite down on his tongue as hard as I can and he recoils, holding his hands to his mouth and blood pours out. 

I call my sword and run it through him. 

He collapses onto the floor. 

I collapse next to him, out of breath, feeling like I just ran a mile.

Once I catch my breath I stand up and point my wand at the door to unlock it. 

I know that’s not actually Baz, but I can’t stand to look at him lifeless like that for another moment. 

Right before I cast, Penelope opens the door without needing to unlock it. I guess whatever that thing is can't actually cast magic.

Penny gasps at the Baz imposter behind me, then Fiona peeks over.

“Fiona, it’s not what it looks like!” I say before she can murder me. 

“I know,” she says. “That satyr is around here somewhere.”

“How do you know?” I ask her. 

“His mind manipulation doesn’t work on me and I’m guessing you didn’t all intentionally run off with incubi.”

“Where’s Baz?” I ask frantically, realizing he’s not with them. 

“We haven’t found him yet,” Penny says. 

“What about all the Minotaurs? Are they still out there?” I ask. 

“There was only one Minotaur,” Fiona says. “And that,” she says pointing at what looks like Baz to me, “is the seventh incubi we’ve killed.”

“Okay. That means there’s one left. We have to find Baz,” I say. 

As I leave the closet, my legs give out and I collapse but Penny catches me and holds me up. 

“Did you kiss that thing?” Fiona asks. 

I weakly nod. 

Fiona points her wand at me and I’m too tired to flinch.

“ **_Get well soon! Livin’ on a prayer!_ **”

I suddenly feel a lot better and I’m able to stand up on my own. I still feel tired but I have more energy. 

“What did that spell do?” I ask.

“It’s a motivational spell. It helps people power through when they’re exhausted.”

“We have to find Baz before that incubus kills him!” I say, getting back on track. 

“If you were able to kill an incubus then Baz has already killed his and is probably bored waiting for us,” Fiona says. 

I don’t want to take any chances, so I run past them into the hallway and demand, “Which way did he go?”

“Same as you,” Fiona says.

I run into the stairs room and call out for him. “Baz!” 

I run between the stone gremlins, splashing through puddles to check the rooms here. Penny helps and Fiona doesn’t seem worried. 

She’s right and he can easily kill an incubus on his own, but if he did, why isn’t he here with us? 

When we don’t find him down here, I run up the stairs and call out again: “Baz!”

I stop when I hear something. It’s crying coming from his bedroom. 

I run the rest of the way up, Penny close behind, and go into his room. 

He’s on the ground collapsed over what looks like me. He has his dagger in his hand but it’s trembling like crazy.

“Baz,” I call out softly. 

He looks up at me and flinches. 

He brandishes his dagger, holding it out exactly how I told him not to, like he’s holding a knife to cut food, and shouts, “Stay back! I don’t know who’s real!” 

Fiona comes up behind us and said, “Basil! _That’s an incubus_.”

“I know!” he shouts back.

“Then kill it,” she says like she’s annoyed. 

“I can’t! What if I’m wrong! I- I can’t be wrong again. I can’t.” 

He starts crying again, saying “I can’t,” over and over. 

“Baz, is it conscious?” I ask softly. I don’t want to escalate the situation but I need to make sure it’s not pretending to sleep.

“I hit him with the pommel, like you taught me,” he says. 

“Good. You did good. Can I come closer?” I ask. 

“You could be incubus and I’d have no way of knowing,” he says, still holding his dagger out. 

“What does he smell like?” I ask Baz. 

“Horrid. Like Cabernet Sauvignon mixed with Sriracha.”

“What do I smell like?” I ask. 

“Burnt popcorn covered in butter.”

If Baz isn’t going to kill the incubus, he’s definitely not going to kill me so I slowly walk up to him.

“Stop,” Baz pleads then stands up holding his shaky dagger in my direction. 

When I reach him, he lowers his dagger and I say, “Smell me.”

He inhales, drops his dagger and knocks the breath out of me as he pulls me into a hug. 

I feel him tremble everywhere as he cries into my neck. I wrap my arms around him and tell him, “It’s fine. I’m fine. You’re fine. Everything is okay.”

“I couldn’t do it,” he cries. “I knew it wasn’t you and I couldn’t do it.”

I pet his hair and say, “It’s okay. You stopped it from sucking out your soul and that’s what matters.”

“I almost let it. I could barely bring myself to knock it out. I can’t hurt you again… Last night was the worst thing that’s ever happened to me.”

I realize Penny and Fiona are just staring at us gobsmacked. 

“Leave the room so I can deal with it,” Fiona demands. 

Baz lets go of me then the three of us go to the hallway to wait.

Baz takes off a gauntlet and wipes the tears out of his eyes, trying to calm down. I don’t think he likes that Penny and Fiona saw that. 

“Does Simon know you’re a vampire?” Penny asks. 

“He’s been saying I’m a vampire for years,” Baz says. 

“But have you admitted it to him?” she asks.

He nods. 

“How did you know?” I ask her. 

“Well, I’ve always suspected, but Fiona was ready to fight when I suggested I cast **liar, liar, pants on fire** , which wouldn’t be a serious problem for anyone else. And he just described yours and the incubus’s scents as food.”

Fiona comes out of the room, gets in my face and says, “What did you do to my nephew? Did _you_ cast a love spell on _him_?”

“I don’t think so,” I say.

“You don’t _think_ so?” she asks furiously.

“Fiona,” Baz says. “He didn’t do anything to me. I’ve felt this way for years.”

“Why did you always go along with it whenever we made plans to neutralize him?” she asks. 

“I told you they were plotting,” I whisper to Penny.  
  
“Fiona, I thought dating Snow was not an option and I didn’t see a point in bringing it up. It was easier to just pretend I didn’t care for him. I was never going to hurt him though,” Baz says. 

“ _But he’s a Normal!_ ” 

“He’s the most powerful magician alive,” Baz states. 

“You’ve always said he couldn’t spell water wet,” she says.

“Well, he got the ice to evaporate so for a brief moment it was in a liquid state.”

“Actually I think it was immediately vapor,” Penny says. 

“Bunce, are you even on Snow’s side?” Baz asks. 

“Hey, guys?” I say.

“Of course I am,” she says. 

“Even his friends think he’s useless,” Fiona says. 

“Hey- umm,” I say.

“He’s not useless,” Penny says. “I’ve seen him do things with magic that go beyond the scope of anything done in recorded magical history. He has saved lives.”

“It’s true, Fiona,” Baz says. “I would be dead without his help.”

“He’s the only reason you’re in this mess, Basil,” she says. 

“Hey!” I yell. That gets their attention. “There’s still a satyr here somewhere. We should kill it before anything else arrives that it can disguise.”

“Where do you think it is?” Penny asks. 

“Quiet,” Baz says, then tilts his head. 

He slowly walks toward the stairs, where the Minotaur broke the railing. He looks down and says, “I think it’s in the basement.”

“How do you know?” Penny asks. 

“I can hear it.”

“Okay, let’s go,” Fiona says, then heads downstairs, stepping over the tripwire and weaving between stone gremlins. 

We all follow and I ask, “Don’t we need a plan?” 

“There’s four of us. We’ll overwhelm it. Satyrs can only focus on so many people at a time,” Fiona says. 

I look at Penny and she nods a confirmation. 

“But what if it makes us see things again?” I ask.

“I’ll be able to kill it if it does that,” Fiona says.

“How?” 

“It’s a long story but she used to date an Incubus,” Baz says. 

“What? Why?” I ask.

“Well, my aunt is a strumpet, you see, and-”

“Now is not the time, you supercilious vestal,” she says.

Having no idea what they’re talking about, I say, “Let’s go,” and start heading down the stairs.

When we get to the mistletoe, Baz reminds everyone of the tripwire and we go single file into the kitchen. 

All the caltrops we left on the stairs going down are gone. They must have all gotten stuck on the tree when it came up. 

We go down the stairs, not being particularly quiet. It’s hard to be quiet when everything is still wet and you’re splashing through puddles. 

When we reach the bottom, Baz and I have our blades out. Fiona has her wand out and Penny has her ring ready. But we don’t see the satyr.

We slowly walk past the large freezer and wine cellar, and through the hallway of closets. 

We walk through the doors to the servants quarters and the satyr steps out from behind the wall separating the kitchen from the dining room.

It plays a sharp note on it’s flute and the doors slam behind us. Baz and I charge at it and it’s note changes, causing all of us to slam back against the door and pinning us there like we’re in a gravitron.

Penny says, “ **_Out of tune!_ **” and the note changes again.

We’re dropped from the wall we were pinned against but none of us seem to be able to move forward now. 

Fiona points her wand at it and casts, “ **_Put a cork in it!_ **”

Nothing seems to happen. 

“ **_Put a cork in it!_ **” Penny tries as well. 

Again, nothing. 

They keep trying, casting it over and over. Then Fiona snaps and casts, “ **_Play Freebird!_ **”

“ _Fiona!_ ” Baz growls.

The only thing that spell does is piss off the musician.

The note changes to a melody and Fiona is quickly pulled forward by an invisible force. She falls on her knees and clutches at her throat, making strangled sounds. 

We all rush toward her, but we hit an invisible barrier between them and us.

Penny frantically goes back to casting, “ **_Put a cork in it!_ **” and Baz joins her.

I bang my fists on the invisible barrier trying to will myself through, but it’s not working. 

Fiona is running out of time so I get out my wand and cast, “ **_Put a cork in it!_ **”

My voice booms and Fiona drops to her hands and knees. Now the satyr is the one clutching at his throat. 

The barrier drops and Baz runs to Fiona and asks, “Are you alright?”

He helps her up and she says, “I’m fine,” then walks over to the struggling satyr. 

“How did you do that?” Fiona demands of me, wide-eyed. 

“I just cast the same spell you did.”

“Yes, but it didn’t work when we did it and it’s only supposed to shut it up, not completely block its airways… This is brilliant, by the way,” she says as she watched the satyr suffocate. 

“When we told you that Snow is the most powerful magician of all time, did you think that was code for something?” Penny asks. 

“I always thought it was something like when people call disabled children special.”

After the satyr stops struggling, Fiona turns to Baz and asks, “What are you doing with your grandfather’s violin bow?”

“My wand was damaged a few days ago,” he says vaguely. 

“You let something break your wand? Pitches don’t get broken wands!” 

“Fiona, drop it,” I say. “This isn’t the time for that.”

“This is none of your business,” she tells me. 

“That’s my boyfriend, so it is my business.” 

She raises an eyebrow at me and I can’t tell if she’s trying to intimidate me or if she’s amused. 

I try to think of something to say, but then the room gets colder. I can see my own breath.

“The ballet dancers must be here,” Baz says. 

“Let’s go,” I say and head for the stairs.

Everyone follows. The steps to the kitchen get increasingly more icy as we go up.

“Careful,” I warn them.

“Remember, don’t get too close to them. They radiate cold that can freeze you,” Baz says.

Then I’m hit with a feeling of dread. It feels like heading to the kitchen is heading for certain death. But I know it’s just Perchta. 

“I have a bad feeling about this,” Penny says. 

“It’ll be okay. That’s just Perchta’s influence,” I say as I get to the top of the stairs.

Then I’m yanked forward by my arm and I hear everyone gasp behind me. 

Perchta is pulling me forward and says, “Ich habe gehört, wie du über mich gesprochen hast.”

I try to pull away from her but the floor is iced over and I can’t get any traction. 

I hear Fiona say, “ **_Drop it like it’s hot!_ **” but nothing happens. 

The geese start honking all around me. I would kick at them but I’m having trouble just staying upright on the ice. 

Perchta continues dragging me through the kitchen. She takes me through the dining room and into the hallway, going around the mistletoe and tripwire. 

I hear Penny yelp as a goose nips at her.

Then I see pale blue ballerinas dancing in white dresses. They’re jumping around and twirling, going from the foyer to the library. They look less human than I thought they would. 

It’s getting significantly colder as we near. I can’t feel my nose. 

I struggle harder against her but she just pulls me closer to her side. 

Halfway down the hallway she stops. I look back and see Baz stabbed her in the back with his space dagger. She smiles down at me and she looks horrible. Like one of the Hagravens from Skyrim. Then she let's go. 

“Ihr Sterblichen lernt nie.”

The geese stop honking and the ballerinas come into the hall.

The geese begin growing while their skin and feathers fall off, revealing bones beneath. Penny and Fiona gasp and back up. 

I hear crackling behind me and when I turn to look, the ballerina’s are twitching as ice spikes come out of their shoulders and back. There’s even spikes coming out of their fingertips. 

I look back where the geese are as Baz cuts off one of the geese’s heads with his khopesh. I draw my sword to help, but then I’m being pulled toward the ballerina’s again. 

“ **_You can’t touch this!_ **” Penny casts, and Perchta let’s go.

I run my sword through a goose as Baz disembowels another. 

There’s a painful chill at my back, and when I turn I see the dancers crawling towards me. 

Fiona gets in front of me and chants, “ **_Don’t stand so close to me! Don’t stand so! Don’t stand so!_ **” 

They stop and make a horrible chattering sound. 

I slam into the wall as one of the geese’s wings hits me. I turn around and slice into it before it can knock Fiona over. As soon as she stops chanting, the ballerina’s will come at us. 

One of the geese pushes Penny over and lifts a talon to scratch her, but Baz tackles it away.

Another rushes to attack her and I shove my sword into its back. 

When it falls over, I jump over it and help Penny up as Baz breaks the neck of the final goose with his hands. 

Perchta is glaring at us. She looks furious. 

“Fick dich und deinen MC Hammer! Ich zeige dir Hammerzeit!” she hisses. 

The spell Fiona is casting is taking a lot of magic to keep up so I tell her, “We need to fall back.” 

She casts, “ **_Sod off!_ **” 

It sends the horrible dancers flying back and we all run. When we each jump over the tripwire, I slip and fall. Fiona grabs my arm and drags me along with them.

I try to get up, but she’s pulling me too fast.

Everyone runs down the stairs and I thump against each step as she pulls me back down into the basement. 

I hear the squeaks of them slipping too but they must be staying upright because we don’t slow and I don’t hear any thumps. 

“Basil, your bloke is too heavy,” she says when we reach the bottom.

Baz takes me and throws me over his shoulder. Everyone rushes into the servants quarters, then Baz casts, “ **_Close the gates!_ **” locking the doors behind us. 

“You can put me down now,” I complain. 

Baz gently lowers me to the ground and asks, “Are you alright?” 

“I just slipped. I’m fine.”

It gets much colder and the door begins creaking. Frost starts accumulating around the seams. They must be right behind it.

We hear Perchta from behind the door say, “Nur das Wunderkind muss sterben. Wenn er bereitwillig herauskommt, kann der Rest leben.”

“We killed all the geese, right? Why is she still here?” Baz asks. 

“I don’t know… Did the ballerinas look like that last night?” I ask. 

“No. I think Perchta can make anything more monstrous if she wants,” he says. 

The door handles go flying off as Perches fist goes through the door. 

The door bursts open and Baz shoots flames at them, obscuring my view. 

I hear a sound like two vases shattering, and Baz stops the fire and casts, “ **_Snowball's chance in hell!_ **” and the shards of ice coming at us melts, splattering us in drops of water. 

The ballerinas run at us and Baz yells, “Don’t let them get close to you!” as the cold rushes in with them. 

Penny casts, “ **_Heat of the moment!_ **” and the room warms up. 

I cast, “ **_Fus ro dah!_ **” throwing half of them across the basement.

One runs up to me and swipes it’s clawed hand, but I deflect it with my sword. Thank Merlin, it isn’t cold enough to freeze anymore. 

In my peripheral I see the others casting fire spells dealing with the other two creatures. Casting fire is far too risky for me, especially with Baz here, so I keep swinging my sword at it. 

The sword just clangs off it every time I hit it. 

I swing my sword at it as hard as I can and it grabs onto it. I pull at it but it doesn’t budge. It yanks me forward with it then swipes at me. It rips into my breastplate and I feel the metal freeze against me. 

“Snow, duck!” Baz yells.

I let go of the sword and drop down. I see a fireball go over me and hit the creature. It’s slammed into the wall by the force of it and explodes like glass shattering. 

Baz casts, “ **_Snowball's chance in hell!_ **” and I’m splattered with water again. 

The four I pushed back are rushing toward us. 

“Snow, your sword isn't helpful; get behind me!” Baz says. 

I get up, grab my sword and run behind the three of them. They focus fire at the creatures.

I can’t see them, but I hear shattering ice from behind the flames. 

Baz holds his bow out and says, “Snowball-” and slips as he steps forward, dropping his bow. 

I don’t think anyone else knows that spell. 

I take out my wand and cast, “ **_Some like it hot!_ **” 

The ice shards turn to steam and float away. 

“I guess spelling water wet is a bit overrated,” Fiona says as I help Baz back up. 

Perchta, still in her ugly form, hobbles up to us, with one real foot and one goose foot I never noticed before and screams. 

“Sie sind unseren zwölf springenden Lords nicht gewachsen. Der Tote wird ein tolles Körperkissen machen, nachdem er es mit Federn gefüllt hat!”

She glares at everyone then she turns to snow and falls into a little pile.

“Baz, please tell me this is over now.” Penny says. 

“There’s one more thing. The twelve lords leaping. We don’t know what to expect, but that should be the last thing.”

“Is everyone okay?” I ask. 

After I hear confirmation from everyone, I ask, “What time is it?”

Penny looks at her watch and says, “Thirty-five minutes until Christmas.”

“Will they come before that?” Fiona asks.

“We have no way of knowing for sure,” Baz says. “But I think they will. I don’t think they’ll stay after midnight.” 

“Why?” Penny asks. 

“For one, it’s the twelve days of Christmas, not thirteen. I think that’s actually important to them. Also, Kramus is legendary for punishing naughty children on Christmas. I don’t think I believe he actually does that, but I think he does have a Christmas ritual he needs to go do. I think that’s why Christmas Eve was the twelfth day and not Christmas.”

“That makes sense,” she says. 

“What do we do now?” Fiona asks.

“We should go to the middle of the house,” Baz says. “We’d be cornered down here.”

We all head back up the stairs. The heat spell Penny cast seems to have had a wide radius because the ice has melted. 

We go through the dining room and into the hallway to avoid the mistletoe and tripwire. 

As we walk towards the library, I see something on the ground. When I get close enough to it I realize it’s that damned Elf on a Shelf.  
  
“There you are,” I say to it and pick it up. I was wondering where it was today. 

“What’s it doing on the floor?” Baz asks. 

“I dunno. It’s always somewhere different… Wait. You haven’t been moving it around?” I ask Baz. 

“... No,” he says. 

“Oh, so it’s spelled to move.”

“I don’t know why anyone would magic it,” Baz says. 

“Enough about the doll. Stay focused,” Fiona says, then goes past us, into the library. 

She stops just past the doors, and when we follow, there’s elves everywhere. 

There’s a few sitting in front of the fire, leaning back on their arms. There’s more sitting in chairs with their legs crossed like they’re getting ready to have tea. There’s several perched on the burnt bookshelves. 

“There must be a dozen of them,” I say, confused. 

“Oh, fuck,” Baz says.

“What?” I ask. 

The one I’m holding leaps out of my hand. 

“What the-” 

It leaps slowly across the library then into the fireplace. 

The ones resting in front of the fire get up and jump in too.

The fire grows with each elf.

The elves on the bookshelves start dropping one by one then merrily leap into the fire.

“Should we put out the fire?” I ask. 

Baz points his bow at it and says, “ **_Make a wish!_ **”

The whole room is overheating and filling with smoke as the elves on the furniture leap off and into the fire.

When the last one finally leaps in, the fire is intense. It looks like dragon fire and the roar from the inferno is deafening.

Quickly the smoke is too thick to see through but I can hear the fire die down. 

I start coughing and Penny casts, “ **_Clear the air!_ **”

The smoke starts clearing revealing the blackened fireplace, no longer lit. 

Baz points his bow at it, and Penny and Fiona point their wand and ring, so I ready my sword. 

Something juts out of the fireplace and slams on the floor, making us all jump. It looks like a long red cushion with white on the end.

Then a second one comes out, slamming on the floor.

When a cone of red fabric comes out, I say, “Oh no.”

The cone swivels and Penny screams.

Blue eyes, rosy cheeks, and a knowing smile stares at us. It’s a gigantic Elf on the Shelf.

Baz shoots flames at it but it doesn’t catch fire. It doesn’t even burn. It doesn’t stop smiling. 

We back up as it claws its way out of the fireplace and stands up. The floorboard strain under it. It’s so tall it can’t even stand up straight in here. It has to cock it’s head in this nearly two story library. 

Penny yells, “ **_To shreds!_ **” and it just tilts its head, smiling down at her. 

The elf stomps towards us, pulverizing the coffee table. Table pieces fly at us as we run. 

As we leave the room, I hear wood scraping on wood and creaking. I look back and see it lifting a couch as I hear Fiona cast, “ **_Close the gates!_ **” then the sound of slamming as the doors fly back onto the hinges and lock.

I run left towards the stair room, and only make it a few feet before there’s a crash behind me. I look back and see the couch was thrown through the doors.

Past the crumpled couch, I see Fiona and Penny and I start to run to them but then stop in my tracks as the elf lurches into the hallway, separating us. 

It crawls out into the hallway, barely able to fit. 

It looks stuck but before I can consider attacking it, it charges at us. Baz and I race down the hallway away from it. 

Baz casts, “ **_Seven-league boots!_ **” and we start running faster.

But even at this speed, I can hear it right behind us. The hall roars around us as it slithers after us, scrapping everything off the walls. 

We make it into the stairs room and dash up the stairs weaving between stone gremlins. I can hear the elf crushing the statues as it chases us up the stairs.

I'm barely able to brace myself as I feel the elf swipe at us, knocking me over. Baz is shoved hard through the banister and is flung off the stairs.

Without a thought, I point my wand at him and say, “ **_Baby, come back!_ **” and he flies back, crashing into me. 

We get up and start sprinting towards the landing.  
  
“Go left,” Baz says. 

When I reach the top of these stairs, I turn left to go up the next set of stairs towards his parents bedroom. 

I stop when I realize he’s not with me. 

I turn and see he’s leading it to the right. But that’s just going to loop back to where I am. 

When he’s directly across from me he vaults over the railing, onto the chandelier. The elf jumps after him but doesn’t go as far and misses the chandelier. 

I take this opportunity to cast, “ **_The bigger they are, the harder they fall!_ **” on it.

The whole house quakes as it rips through the floor. Through the sounds of the stair room nearly collapsing, there’s a snap as it lands on the mousetrap. 

“ **_Float like a butterfly!_ **” Baz says then smiles and prettily walks through the air to me. 

When he gets over the railing, his smile falls as he looks past me and he asks, “What happened?”

Fiona is walking up to us with a limp and an arm over Penny’s shoulders. 

“That tripwire is a safety hazard,” she complains. 

“That was the intent,” Baz says.

“Is it dead?” Penny asks.

Baz turns back around, looks down and says, “Oh, fuck.”

I look down too, and there’s only debris. No sign of the elf.

“Simon, I need you to keep Fiona safe. Can you do that?” Baz asks. 

I look at Fiona and she’s glaring at him, but I say, “Yeah. What do you need me to do?” 

“Take her into the attic. If it finds you, go off on it.”

“What about you?” I ask. 

“Bunce and I will take care of it. We’ll use the ballista. Now hurry,” he says and ushers us to the hallway where his room, the guest room, and Fiona’s rooms are. 

He pulls on a chord hanging from the ceiling that I didn’t notice before and a staircase falls and unfolds in front of us. 

I let Fiona go up the steps first, then follow her up.

“Stay safe,” Baz says, as he pushes the stairs back up.

“You too,” I say, looking him in the eyes. 

He nods and closes the door. 

It’s dark but then Fiona says, “ **_Making spirits bright!_ **” and a blinding light emanates in the corner.

“What the hell is that?” I ask.

“It’s a wraith,” she says, then grabs a sheet and throws it over it, dimming it. 

It looks like a glowing ghost.

We jump when there’s a loud bang on the ceiling followed by howling. Fucking Krampus. 

“Spell my ankle better, would you?” Fiona asks. 

“Uhh. I don’t cast spells on people, if I can help it,” I say. 

“It’s a simple spell,” she complains. 

“If I mess it up and you get hurt, Baz would flay me.”

“If you mess it up, I’ll flay you.”

“Yeah, sorry. But I don’t wanna get flayed. As soon as the elf is dead, Baz or Penny can do it,” I say. 

She sighs and finds a chair to sit on.

I look around and there’s a ton of stuff up here. Furniture, boxes, ice skates, what looks like maybe statues wrapped in cloth and tied with rope, paint cans and rollers. Just a lot of clutter. 

“Do you hear that?” she asks. 

I listen and hear a thumping. It’s fast and getting louder. 

Quickly the room is vibrating as the thumping sounds closer. 

There’s a bang on the attic door and I yelp. (Not the most manly sound but I wasn’t expecting that). 

It bangs on the door again. 

“Do something, chosen one!” Fiona snaps at me.

I hear Penny cast, “ **_Sod off!_ **” Then there’s a rumble where it presumably fell back.

There’s thumping again then another bang at the door, cracking some of the wooden boards. 

I hear the loud twang of the ballista followed by another loud rumble. 

More thumps. Fuck. I think it’s getting back up. 

I look around and I realize I have exactly what I need. 

I go to the statue shaped thing and start untying the rope. 

“What the hell are you doing?” Fiona asks me, getting up to watch. 

“Have you seen Home Alone?” I ask as I bring the rope to the paint cans and start tying them together. 

“Oh, this is brilliant,” she says, surprisingly not being sarcastic. 

“I’ve been suggesting this for like a week and Baz kept telling me it’s a bad idea.”

There’s another bang at the attic door, then I hear Baz cast, “ **_Sod off!_ **”

There’s another room shaking rumble as it falls back. 

“I love my nephew but sometimes he lacks imagination.”

Once I have four paint cans tied to the end of the rope, I start tying it to a ceiling beam.  
  
“It needs more slack,” Fiona says.

I let the rope drop about a foot and she says, “More. It needs to swing below the door.”

I give it more slack then she says, “Perfect.”

I tie it to the beam and knot it, double knot it, and triple knot it to be sure as the thumping gets closer. 

“I’m going to hold them up,” I say. “Can you open the door when I say to?”

She nods and I lift it up. I struggle to lift it over my head because this must weigh as much as I do. 

Fiona points her wand at me and says, “ **_Strong as an ox!_ **” and the cans feel a bit lighter. 

Just as the thumping sounds directly below us, I say, “Now!” 

Fiona casts “ **_Open sesame!_ **” and I throw the cans as hard as I can as the door falls open. 

I see it’s demonic face stare at me as the paint cans drop and smash into it, breaking it into pieces. 

It falls over backwards and there’s a loud and eerie howl from outside.

No one makes a sound. We stand quietly until Penny asks, “Is it dead?”

I start going down the stairs then Baz says, “Stop!” 

I stand on the step and Baz runs up to it. It’s massive and takes up the hallway. It’s face is completely shattered. 

Baz kicks it and it doesn’t move. 

Fiona from the attic casts, “ **_Wakey, wakey, eggs and bakey!_ **” at it and it still doesn’t move.

I come down the steps and walk up to it. I push my sword into it and there’s no response from it.

I hear the grandfather clock from the library go off and I ask “What time is it?”

“Midnight,” Penny says. 

“I- I think it’s over,” I say. 

Baz rushes to me and wraps his arms around me and I wrap mine around him.

“It’s Christmas. We made it,” he says quietly to me.

After a moment he lets go and goes up the stairs to the attic and I go to Penny and hug her.

I hear Baz, “ **_Get well soon!_ **” Fiona and I tell Penny, “Thank you so much for coming here to rescue me.”

“You’d do the same for me,” she tells me. 

“I guess we should clean some of this up,” I say, looking at the elf filling the hallway.

Baz comes down the stairs and says, “It’s been a very long couple of weeks. We can deal with everything in the morning.”

Baz shows Penny where the guest room and bathroom are, and apologizes to Fiona about the state of her room and helps them dry everything because it was still wet from earlier. Then we go into his room together and they don’t question it. 

I go up to the couch and fall back on it. I think I could fall asleep right here with my armor still on, but then Baz starts unbuckling it for me.

“Are you alright?” he asks.

“Yeah. I’m just tired.”

“Me too,” he says as he unbuckles my grieves. 

After all my armor is off, I lean forward and start unbuckling his. 

“I think I need to shower,” I say. 

“That can wait.”

Once all the armor is in a pile on the floor I get in bed and lay on my side. I expect Baz to get in bed from the left side so I can spoon him, but he gets in behind me, making me the little spoon. It’s very comforting being in his arms and I immediately begin to drift off. 

“Happy Christmas,” he whispers to me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a heads up: it’ll be a long time until the last chapter is posted. I want to wait for all the art for it to be done before I complete it. It’s just an epilogue though, so I hope this chapter has given you enough closure to last until that happens.  
> I promise it will be done in 2020. Lol.


	15. Christmas

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I said I’d post this when the art was done. But my artist/boyfriend decided to procrastinate for six months and not start until he was elbow deep in school and Cyberpunk 2077. Lol. So I only have one of three pictures I was going to have. It’s at the bottom of Chapter 9: Day Eight.  
> But I wanted to post this today so the advent calendar thing would line up.  
> The other pictures will get done and added hopefully soon.  
> Anyways! I hope you enjoy the epilogue! 
> 
> (I’ll update this note when the art gets added and/or you can follow me on Tumblr because I’ll post the art there too. https://logicallyspockzilla.tumblr.com/)

# Wednesday, Christmas 

I wake up alone. I frown, wondering where Baz is. 

I’m about to get up to look, but then he comes out of the bathroom with his hair slicked back. He must have taken a shower.

“Sorry I left. I didn’t mean for you to wake up alone. I just didn’t want to wake you. I wanted to make sure you had all the rest you could get,” Baz says as he sits on the bed in front of me. 

I reach out and run my fingers through his hair and mess it up a bit. He gives me an unamused look, and I say, “It looks better this way.” 

He smiles then leans in to kiss me. First it’s just a peck on the lips. Then my mouth relaxes and his tongue slides in, feeling cool and minty. 

When Agatha and I kissed, it always felt awkward and uncomfortable, but this feels natural and I find myself wanting more and more. 

I slide a hand into his wet hair as I move my tongue into his mouth and explore, with zero concern for his fangs. I know he’d stop me if there was any risk to me.

He puts a hand on my thigh and I start kissing him faster and faster, as I realize this is it. We can finally be together without the fear of monsters looming over us. 

I push him back to get on top of him, but he puts a hand on my shoulder, stopping me. 

“You should get ready for breakfast,” he says. 

“Can’t we just stay in here all day? I’ve never said this before, but I’m willing to skip breakfast.”

“I don’t think Fiona or Bunce would be too happy if we ignored them on Christmas after spending so much time trying to rescue us,” he reminds me. 

“Oh, right,” I sigh. 

Baz goes downstairs to get started on breakfast while I shower. It feels really good to get yesterday off me. Cleaning spells only do so much. 

When I’m done I brush my teeth and put on the red cotton boxer briefs Baz left for me, as well as a fresh pair of red and black flannel joggers, and black Harry Potter shirt.

I leave the room and see they moved the remains of the Elf on a Shelf to unblock the hall. 

I go up and around the stairs room to the staircase by Baz’s parents room that leads to the kitchen. 

As soon as I’m close I smell scones and run down. 

When I get to the kitchen I see scones on the cooling rack and I ask, “How did you make these?”

“Fiona magicked the oven to work without electricity,” Baz says.

I reach for one and Baz says, “Not yet. Go to the dining room and I’ll bring these in a moment.”

As I head to the door, I hear laughing. When I go in, I see Fiona and Penelope sitting opposite each other, laughing about something before they turn to me. 

Penny: “Happy Christmas, Simon.”

Fiona: “Happy Christmas, Chosen One.” 

I groan at the mention of being the Chosen One and ask, “Can we please not bring up anything Humdrum related today?” as I sit next to Penny.

“I wasn’t referring to the prophecy. I was referring to Baz,” Fiona clarifies. 

Baz walks in with a jam jar and three plates of scones. As he puts them in front of us he says, “Don’t call him that.”

Then he sits down next to Fiona and says, “Only I can call him that.”

I immediately start shoveling scones in my mouth, following it up with spoonfuls of jam straight from the jar everyone is neglecting.

“You can’t monopolize nicknames, boyo,” she says. 

“Just call him Simon,” he says as he pours himself tea into the only non-Christmassy cup. 

I wonder if I can manage **float like a butterfly** to get the one I fixed out of the TV room.

“You don’t even call him that,” she complains. 

“I do in bed,” he says and I feel my cheeks heat up. 

Penny: “Eww.”

Fiona: “Well, I definitely can’t call him that now.” 

“Thank you for ruining my name,” I say, with a mouth full of scone, 

“They’re still free to call you Nightmare,” he says. 

“Okay, Sugarplum.” 

His eyes narrow and his cheeks turn ever so slightly pink.

“What did your consort just say?” Fiona asks, stifling a laugh. 

Penny, openly laughing, says, “He called Baz ‘Sugarplum!’” 

“Did you just call Snow my ‘consort?’” Baz asks, laughing a bit too.

“Can we please call me Simon?” I ask, trying not to smile at everything going on.

“A nightmare is a type of dream, so it’s basically calling you dreamy,” Baz says. 

I fold my arms and say, “Okay, Gampire.”

Fiona laughs really hard and asks, “What does that mean?”

Baz tries to stay serious and feign being angry but he starts laughing too.

This goes on for a while and we get giddy from laughing. It’s really surprising and great to see us all getting along like this.

When the laughing dies down, Penny says, “Oh. Yesterday I forgot to give this to you,” and hands me a gold Christmas cracker. 

“The cabbie told us to give it to you,” Fiona says. 

“What did he look like?” Baz asks. 

“He had an uncanny resemblance to Father Christmas,” Penny says. 

“It must have been the same guy who drove us here,” I say. 

I hold it out to Baz and he grabs onto the other end. We pull and when it comes apart there’s a loud _snap_.

Loud enough to make us close our eyes and flinch. 

When I open them, it’s bright. I try to figure out why it’s so bright in here, when Baz says, “The electricity is back.”

I look up and realize he’s right. But that’s not all. Everything is different. Our plates are gone. But so is the gash on the table from the minotaur’s axe. 

Baz and I get up and go in the kitchen, and everything is good as new. There’s no scorch marks.

We both trot into the hallway. The tripwire is gone, but we keep going. We go all the way to the stairs room. 

I run my fingers through my hair when I see it. 

It looks like it did when we got here. It’s completely fixed. Even the Minotour hole is gone. 

“How is this possible?” Baz asks. 

“I don’t know.” 

“Did you wish it to happen?” he asks. 

I shake my head and say, “No… Wait. Was our cabbie Father Christmas? Is Father Christmas real?”

“Definitely not,” Baz says.

“ _Oh my god, Baz!_ You broke Father Christmas’s radio!” I say.

“No. That’s impossible.”

“How else could you explain this?” I ask. 

Baz doesn’t say anything. He turns around and I follow. 

He goes into the library and it looks perfect. The fireplace is lit and the huge Christmas tree is back but with presents under it. They’re wrapped in red paper with green ribbons.

“Oh no,” Baz says.

“What?”

“The ugly carpet is back.”

I roll my eyes, and say, “Who do you think the presents are for?”

I follow Baz to the tree. Fiona and Penny have caught up with us too. 

He picks up two matching gifts, wrapped in gold paper. He looks them over, looks at the names written on them and says, “These are for you,” handing them to Fiona and Penny. 

They look confused but start ripping off the paper, revealing clear plastic bags filled with pine cones and cinnamon sticks along with red things like maybe a pomegranate and berries. 

“That’s the weirdest looking trail mix I’ve ever seen,” I say. 

Penny laughs and says, “I think it’s potpourri.”

I sit down in front of the tree and grab another gift. It has my name on it. It’s rectangular and doesn’t make a sound when I shake it.

“Open it,” Baz says, and sits down next to me. 

I undo the ribbon bow and tear the paper off. It’s a book. 

Baz reads the title out loud for everyone: “Yay! You’re Gay! Now What?: A Gay Boys Guide to Life.”

My face gets hot and I look around expecting everyone to laugh, but they’re just smiling. They clearly think it’s funny but still no one laughs. 

“We’re going to leave you to the rest,” Fiona says.

“We’re going to go make gingerbread girls,” Penny says, and they walk off together. 

There’s two more under the tree. I take out a square box with my name on it and Baz takes out a rectangular box.

I unwrap mine and it’s a white box. I’m about to open it, but then I hear sniffling. 

I look at Baz and tears are running down his cheek.

“What’s wrong?”

“My wand,” Baz says. 

I look down and his wand is in his lap, unbroken. 

Baz sobs and says, “I didn’t think I’d ever get it back.”

I set the white box down and scoot next to him. I wrap my arms around him and hold him. He puts his arms around me too and cries into my shoulder. 

“Are you okay?” I ask. 

His cries turn into laughs and he says, “I’ve never been so happy in my entire life.”

“Try a spell. Make sure it works,” I remind him.  
  
“Right,” he says, then starts thinking.

After a moment, he lifts his wand and says, “ **_Let it snow!_ **” 

Soft sparkling snowflakes start drifting down around us. 

I catch one with my tongue and Baz smiles at me.

“It’s beautiful,” I say. 

“And with any luck it’ll ruin the carpet.” 

I shake my head and reach for the white box again. I open it and take out a magic eight ball. 

“Oh- No- That’s not supposed to be there,” Baz says. 

“What do you mean?”

“That’s something I got you before everything happened. I hid it in my closet because I wasn’t going to give it to you now.”

“Why?” I ask. 

“It’s magicked to be mean to you.”

“Why?” I ask again. 

“I don’t know. I guess I thought it would be funny.”

“Will we have roast beef for dinner?” I ask it, then give it a shake before turning it over. 

I read my answer out loud: “Never again.” 

Baz gives a light chuckle and I shake it again, asking, “Will I ever defeat The Humdrum?”

I read it out loud again: “Nope.”

“Kinda harsh,” I say. 

“It can get worse,” Baz says. “Ask it if you’re late for something.”

“Am I late for class?” I ask and give it a shake. 

Eight ball: “Ask again later.” 

Baz laughs and I say, “This is pure evil.”

“Will I graduate from Watford?” I ask and shake. 

Eight ball: “Hah!” 

I glare at Baz, who’s still laughing, and say, “Is my boyfriend hot?”

Eight ball: “He’s fugly.”

Baz glares at me and I start laughing. 

I look under the tree because maybe the teacup I fixed for him will be wrapped under here too since the eight ball was. There doesn’t seem to be anything else though.

I frown and Baz asks, “What's wrong?” 

“Looking for something,” I say, and get up.

“What is it?” he asks, getting up too and following me out of the library. 

“It’s a secret,” I say as I go down the hall to the TV room. 

I go in and everything looks in place. The advent calendar thing has all it’s doors closed, probably full of chocolate again. 

I make a mental note to come back for the chocolate later before leaving. 

“Fucking hell,” I say as Baz closes the door behind us, realizing where the teacup is. 

I stomp back to the kitchen where Penny and Fiona are using a mixer and I open the cupboard and see all six Christmas teacups together in perfect condition.

I groan and Fiona asks, “What’s wrong?”

“All the teacups are fixed,” I explain. 

“Then break them again,” she says. 

Baz’s eyes narrow and I say, “No, no. It’s good that they’re fixed. It’s just that I put a lot of effort into fixing one for you. I was going to give it to you for Christmas, but now they’re all fixed anyways so it doesn’t matter.”

“It’s the thought that counts,” Penny says. 

“I just really wanted to do something for you, after all you’ve done for me,” I say to Baz. 

“Well, you do owe me,” Baz says. 

I look at him, not knowing what he’s talking about and he leans in so his lips are against my ear and whispers, “The night I saved you from the Strix. Do you remember?”

“Right now?” I ask quietly, remembering exactly what he’s talking about. 

Baz nods and says, “We’re going to go check the rest of the house for damage. We’ll be back for lunch.”

As Baz and I walk away I hear Fiona ask Penny, “Checking for damage? Is that what the kids are calling it now?”

I walk faster to get away as my cheeks burn. I hear Penny say something back and they start laughing. 

“Is dating you always going to be embarrassing?” I ask him.

“For you? No. For me? Yes.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I ask. 

“You’re dating a footballer who’s at the top of his class. I’m dating a bloke that everyone knows only eats scones as an excuse to eat butter.” 

“Hey! I genuinely like scones!” I say, feeling a bit offended. 

He takes my hand and says, “I’m just teasing you, Snow.” He tugs my hand encouraging me to go up the stairs with him. 

I do. 

We go up to his room and he sits in the center of the couch at the foot of his bed. I stand there in front of him awkwardly for a moment before I remember what I was supposed to do, then I feel even more awkward. 

“So… I’m supposed to just… Do yoga?” I ask. 

“That was the agreement, yes.” 

“Okay…” I say and look at the ground. I turn away from him and back toward him a few times trying to decide if I want to be facing him or not. 

I decide to face away from him before he gets a chance to compare me to a dog going in circles before lying down. 

I sit, get in position and do the breathing, when Baz says, “Move along.”  
  
I get on my hands and knees to do the thing he taught me where I look up and inhale then round my spine and lower my head to exhale.

“You can skip to downward facing dog,” Baz says, sounding a little too happy.

I turn to look at him and ask, “Did you ask for this just to take the piss? I thought you wanted to see if I was doing it right.”

“I didn’t ask for this so I could mock you. I asked for this so I could ogle you, dimwit.” 

“Oh,” I say, realizing how obvious that should have been.  
  
“Umm-” I say, feeling a little on the spot. 

“Simon, if you’re uncomfortable, you don’t have to do it,” Baz softly reassures me. 

“No, I’ll do it,” I tell him. “I just want to do it right and I don’t think I’ve been able to get downward dog right.”

“I promise I’ll enjoy it, no matter how terrible your form is,” Baz says. 

“Can you at least show me how it’s supposed to look again before I try?” I ask him, standing back up. 

Smiling, Baz gets up and walks in front of me. He drops to his elbows and knees. Then I see him raise his elbows, then his knees and his butt rises into the air until his body is making a perfect triangle. The shape of his body is unbelievable. The way he’s standing makes a beckoning v shape that draws my eyes up. 

As I get ready to get back on the floor, I can’t help but stare at that infuriatingly perfect arse of his. Realizing I’ve never actually touched it other than one slap, I accidentally step forward as I’m trying to get on the ground. It feels like slow motion as my face gets closer and closer to his arse until I smash right into it.

I fall over and pain erupts in my nose.

Baz immediately swivels on his knees, turning to me and asking if I’m okay.

“Jesus, Baz! Is it literally made out of marble?” I ask.

I touch my nose and it’s bleeding a bit. I think it’s broken. 

Without having to ask, Baz casts, “ **_Get well soon!_ **” on me, and without needing to be asked, I go straight into the bathroom to wash the blood off. Luckily there isn’t much. 

When I come out, Baz is rubbing his butt and I ask, “Did I hurt you?”

“No. I’m just concerned my arse is too hard now,” he says and I can’t tell if he’s being genuine or possibly mocking me. 

“Can I feel?” I ask, feeling a bit timid. 

“With your hands or with your face again?” He asks, raising an eyebrow. 

“Hands,” I say, rolling my eyes. 

He gives a nod and I step closer. My hands hover over him, unsure where to place them first. 

Eventually I place one hand on his hip. I press my fingertips into it slightly. I wouldn’t say it’s particularly boney, but it’s not soft. I slid my hand down then over, tracing the dimple so my hand is cupping a cheek. It’s surprisingly soft. Softer than an arse this firm has any right to be. I give it a soft squeeze then add my other hand. I run on hands flatley over it, watching it plump back to shape after my hands have moved on.

“Is your arse still shaped like that without the yoga pants?” I ask, recalling how it didn't quite look like this in his footballer kit.

“Only one way to find out,” Baz says, turning around. 

I look him in the eyes, trying to figure out if he means what I think he means, then he takes off his shirt. He looks at me expectantly but my eyes drift to his chest, forgetting the face he’s making. All I see is flawless skin over perfect muscles as it moves with each breath. His whole torso is perfect. The way it starts to narrow around the waist is mesmerizing.

When I feel him gently tug at my shirt, my attention snaps back and I realize I should probably do the same. 

I lift the hem of my shirt on my left side with my right hand over my head and I somehow manage to get stuck in it. Baz’s body made me forget how to take off my shirt. Baz laughs and I pull harder, but it just strains against my head and tightens around my left arm, making it unable to help.

I feel Baz swat my free hand away and he pulls my shirt back down. 

“Do you need help undressing?” Baz asks, with a condescending smirk. 

I growl in frustration and Baz grabs the back of my head and leans down to kiss me. It’s surprisingly not gentle. He shoves his tongue in my mouth and I let out a moan. The way his tongue seeks out mine makes me feel- no- it makes me know he wants me as much as I want him. I put my hands on his back to pull him tight against me as I kiss back, matching his force. It feels like a competition to see which of us can kiss the other one more or harder or I dunno- something. Whatever it is, I feel like I have to win. 

But then Baz pulls away and says, “You didn’t answer the question.”

I huff because I don’t remember the question. 

Baz grips my shirt with both hands like he’s about to threaten me, then my eyes go wide as he rips it apart. 

We stare at each other for a moment, breathing heavily, then feverishly go back to snogging. Baz pulls what’s left of my shirt off of me and I grab his arse and lift him up by it. He wraps his legs around my waist and I walk him to the nearest wall, and push him against it, knocking over a small table with a lamp on it in the process.

As I do that, I realize I’ve nearly made it through the list I had a few days ago of things I wanted to do to him. I start sucking on his clavicle to start with the next item on the list, then there’s a knock and Fiona walks in. 

Startled, I drop Baz and jump away, as if the distance can convince her I wasn’t even touching him just now. (And luckily Baz landed on his feet).

“Jesus Christ, Basil!” Fiona yells. “Why didn’t you put a sock on the doorknob or something?”

I pick up what’s left of my shirt and try to cover myself up with it while trying to stand at an angle myself to hide the bulge in my joggers. 

“I didn’t think I needed a sock,” Baz says, crossing his arms and ankles and leaning against the wall. “I implied what we were doing.”

“‘Checking for damage’ is actually what they call it now?” She asks. 

I point at the damaged lamp thinking that might help the situation, but no one notices me.

“No,” Baz says, rolling his eyes. “But it was a lame excuse to be alone. I thought it would be obvious.”

“Whatever. The gingerbread girls are done.”

Baz sighs and says, “We’ll be down in a moment.”

Fiona disappears for a second, comes back and says, “I always pictured you as a top, Baz.”  
  
Baz sighs again and asks, “Why would you be picturing that at all?”

She shrugs and leaves.

I lean towards Baz and ask, “What’s a top?”

“Not anything you have to worry about,” he says.

I am worried about it, but I don’t press on about it. I look at Baz and he looks annoyed but I feel very disappointed. And frustrated. It’s like, every time I get a moment with him, it’s stopped much too soon. 

“She’s just as bad as Krampus,” Baz says, as he puts his shirt back on.

I don’t understand how it seems like a crime for him to wear a shirt, yet be so sinful to see him without one.

He goes into his closet and comes back with a fresh Harry Potter shirt and hands it to me. 

As I put it on, he says, “Don’t get stuck.”

I carefully put it on, then Baz grabs me and pulls me close. He leans down and breaths into my ear. I feel my heart beat against his lips and wonder if he can feel it too.

He whispers, “Don’t get too used to wearing that. It’s getting ripped back off.”

My breath immediately gets ragged, and I have to restrain myself from whimpering. I want this so badly. 

“I thought you said you were done trying to kill me,” I say, trying to keep my voice steady. 

He laughs lightly and says, “We lived in the same room for years. I think we can make it a few more hours.”

“I wouldn’t call that living. More like surviving. But just barely.” 

Baz laughs and tugs lightly on my hand, gesturing for us to leave. 

“I- Umm- I need a moment,” I say, looking down. 

Baz smirks at that, and I say, “Stop, you’ll just make it worse.”

“Try thinking about your grandmother’s toes. Oh, wait. You’re still an orphan. Think about The Mage and his ridiculous outfit.”

I growl and he says, “It worked, didn’t it?”

I sigh and say, “Let’s go.”

We go back to the dining room and Penny is there with a plate of gingerbread girls with blue frosting in front of her along with a bowl of that potpourri stuff. 

“Is that any good?” I ask her, as I reach in to take a piece out of the bowl. 

“Stop,” She says. “You’re not supposed to eat it. You’re supposed to smell it.”

I look at her skeptically and give it a sniff. It smells really familiar, but I can’t place it. 

“It doesn’t smell like pomegranate,” I say.  
  
“That’s not pomegranate. Those are dried Incubi hearts,” she explains. 

“What? Why?” I ask.

“They’re famous for smelling good, but nearly impossible to get a hold of,” she says. 

“Aren’t they sentient?” I ask.

“Yes, but they’re dark creatures, so they don’t count,” Baz says. 

“But _you’re_ a dark creature,” I say.

Fiona yells from the kitchen and says, “Every bad creature is dark but not every dark creature is bad.”

“How does that make sense?” I ask.  
  
Penny says, “It’s like how every dog is an animal, but not every animal is a dog.” 

We hear Fiona yelp from the kitchen followed by a clatter. We all rush in and she’s shaking her hand as if she just got bit or something.

“Are you okay?” I ask, looking down to see a teacup on the floor. 

“The thing shocked me or something,” she says.

Baz reaches down and carefully picks it up and says, “Merlin, Snow… This feels like your magic.”

“Can you… Use it?” I ask.

He shakes his head and says, “I can only feel it. How many spells did you cast on this?”

“I dunno. A few, I guess,” I say.

“Fiona, is it possible he imbued it with his magic?” Baz asks. 

“Well, it’s not unheard of, but it’s very rare. I think we have an imbued pillow somewhere. Supposedly it never needs to be fluffed.”

“This counts as a Christmas present for you, Baz,” I say. 

“It’s cracked,” Baz complains. 

“I can fix it,” I say. 

I’m about to cast **good as new** , but then Baz says, “Leave the cracks. That way no one else will accidentally touch it.”

Then Baz says, “I’ll bring the tea in, Fiona,” and we all go back into the dining room. 

I stare at the gruesome potpourri and ask Fiona, “Didn’t you date an Incubus?”

“It was a long time ago,” She says. 

“But aren’t the Pitches speciesist?” I ask. 

She huffs and says, “It wasn’t serious. It’s not like I was going to marry him or anything. Not that he knew that.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I ask as Baz comes in and serves the tea. 

He answers for her and says, “When an Incubus or Succubus fall in love with a mortal, they’re allowed to leave a mark on the person that makes them impervious to a lot of types of mental manipulation. It’s given to prove their love is real.”

Fiona hooks the collar of her shirt with a finger and pulls it back revealing a weird tattoo near her shoulder. It’s a symbol of an eye with scribbles around it. 

“Is that a language?” I ask. 

“It’s Infernal,” Baz says. 

The eye looks around and blinks, making me flinch. 

“It moves?” I ask. 

“Sometimes,” Fiona says. “It doesn’t get to look at stuff often. Usually all it sees is shower tiles.” 

“What do the words mean?” Penny asks. 

“It’s a love poem he wrote for her,” Baz says. 

“Yeah, he was nice,” Fiona tells us, and lets her shirt move back in place, covering the eye. 

“Tell them what happened to him when the love was unreciprocated,” Baz says.

“Nothing major,” she assures us. “Just lost his seduction abilities.”

“Which is basically like taking magic from a mage,” Baz says. 

“That’s awful,” Penny says. 

“Eh. He liked Limp Bizkit,” Fiona says, like that makes it okay. 

Penny nods empathetically. 

It must be a terrible biscuit for people to hate it that much. 

Liking blood is pretty gross, but that’s definitely not going to change how I feel about Baz.

I don’t think I’d be wanting to snog him right after draining a rat, but he probably wouldn’t want to kiss me after some of the things I eat. In hindsight, I regret eating the butter and cabbage. Or, at least letting Baz see. I mean. I have eaten worse, but Baz doesn’t need to know that. 

I stare at him across the table, wishing I could kiss him now. He’d taste like horrendous Christmas tea, which might be my new favorite. 

Merlin, I hope tea time ends soon so we can go back to his room and finish what we started. Maybe grab an armful of crisps so we can stay there indefinitely. And the nailgun and nail the door shut. 

“So was it Baz that talked you into joining our side against The Mage or did something happen?” Fiona asks, filling silence I didn’t notice until now. 

Penelope looks at me with wide eyes, probably thinking I actually agreed to this. 

I open my mouth to try to explain but words don’t come out.

Baz talks instead, saying, “Snow and I haven’t officially talked this through.”

Now Penny looks worried as Fiona stills aside from the Baz-like eyebrow that raises. 

“Truce,” I say. “We’re on a truce.”

Fiona looks at Baz to explain.

“I need to talk to Snow alone for a moment. Will you excuse us?” He asks, standing up.

Penny nods and Fiona eyes her.

Baz practically lifts me up by my arm because I forgot I was supposed to stand up too. 

Once we walk out into the Hallway, Baz has a hand on the small of my back guiding me. 

Why is he being so formal? Did he just change his mind? Is he going to break up with me?

I know it’s not okay to punch someone you’re dating even if it is another bloke, but what if they’re your ex? Does that make it okay?

I feel my heart beating as anxiety swells in my chest as he guides me into the library. Snow is still falling and has piled up a little, making my feet cold. 

He closes the door behind us then wrap arms around me. I hold onto him too and lean my head against his shoulder.

A silence stretches too long and I say, “Whatever it is you’re going to say, say it soon, please. My feet are freezing.”

In a quick motion, Baz lifts me by my thighs and I wrap my arms and legs around him to hold on.

“Better?” He asks. 

“Yeah.”

“If you were me, what would you do?” Baz asks.

“Well. I guess I’d rip my shirt off again then kiss me and-”

“No,” Baz chuckles lightly. “I meant the wars. The Humdrum, The Mage, the Pitches.”

“Oh,” I say and think about it. “I suppose I wouldn’t want to go against my family. But The Humdrum needs to be stopped and The Mage is leading the fight against it.”

Baz sighs and says, “I can’t work for or even with The Mage, Simon. All he’s ever done is try to destroy my family.”

I nod disappointedly, then he says, “But I can stand by you. I didn’t make you face The Humdrum alone, and I never will.”

“What about The Mage?” I ask him. 

“Can you promise to not take up sides against my family?” He asks.  
  
“Yeah,” I breathe.  
  
“I promise not to be a part of any lethal plans against The Mage, but he is unjust and I have to do right by my family and try to stop him. Is that acceptable to you?”

“No plots either. No secrecy. No spying,” I insist. 

“What am I supposed to do all day if not that?” He asks. 

I think about it for a moment then say, “Me?”

I feel my cheeks heat up then he kisses me slowly. I close my eyes and our lips eventually part and I taste that overly sweetened tea I’ve been longing for since we’ve been downstairs. 

When I feel his fingers run through my hair, I realize he’s holding me up with one hand. He’s so bloody strong. 

He breaks the kiss and says, “I accept.”

“Doing me all day?”

He laughs and says, “Merlin, no. Well. Not no. But I will not plot.”

I laugh and say, “If this is going to work, we’re going to need to be honest with each other.”

“I am being honest,” he says seriously.

“But, you’re Baz. You plot,” I say. 

“A week ago I could have said, ‘You’re Simon. You don’t kiss boys. Especially not evil Vampire boys.’ But things change.”

“Can I cast **liar, liar** on you?”

“You? No. You can have Bunce cast it,” he says. 

“I never thought I’d say this to you, but I’ll take your word for it.”

He kisses me, then the door opens and Fiona says, “In the library, Baz? People study here.”

He doesn’t drop me even though this is painfully awkward. My face feels so hot, I’d be surprised if it wasn’t the colour of a tomato. 

“Also,” Fiona adds, “I’m confused. Who’s the top?”

He just glares at her and she finally says, “Whatever. Your father wants to talk to you,” and holds out her mobile to him. 

He carefully sets me down and takes the phone.

I decide to give him privacy, and as I leave the room I hear him say, “I have no idea. I think she was talking about the top footballers or something.”

What the hell is a top?

I consider asking Fiona, but decide to go back to the dining room and eat some gingerbread girls instead.

I ask Penny if I should call Agatha, but she said it’d be better to tell her tomorrow so I don’t spoil her Christmas.

After a bit, Baz comes in and says, “I talked to my father, stepmother, and Mordelia, wished them all a Happy Christmas. All my holiday obligations have been met. Now Snow and I are going to _check for damage._ ”

Penny and Fiona say nothing as Baz drags me up to his room.

As soon as the door shuts behind us, Baz starts shoving me backwards toward the bed. Normally when Baz shoves me, I want to shove him back. But not this time. 

He keeps going until I hit the bed and fall onto it, then he sits me up by pulling me up by the shirt with both hands and hums in amusement. 

He smirks at me like he’s up to no good, then rips my shirt off again.

“I don’t think that will ever stop being sexy,” I tell him. 

“I can’t duplicate clothes forever,” he says as he runs his fingertips along my chest, tickling me slightly. “This was an extenuating circumstance. Eventually we’ll run out of shirts.”

“But you can do it until we get back to Watford, right?” I ask. 

“I suppose. Do you want to put on another shirt so I can rip it off?” he asks, sarcastically. 

“No. I want you to rip your shirt off.”

He looks me in the eyes as he grabs his shirt and slowly pulls it apart like tissue paper. The fabric strains over his muscles before ripping, slowly trailing down, down, down. 

I press my fingers against him just above the hem of his yoga pants, then slide them up, taking note of every muscle I feel. Baz doesn’t look ripped, but he’s fit, and I feel every ab as I go up.

My hands linger on his chest, admiring how smooth and firm it is, perfect, like the rest of him. When I reach his throat, I move my hand behind his neck. Then I push him onto the bed next to me, get up and get on top of him with my knees next to his hips. 

“Wait,” he says. 

I pant with anticipation. 

He reaches for his wand on the nightstand, points it at the door and says, “ **_Close the gates!_ **” securely locking the door. 

“It used to be infuriating how bloody smart you are,” I tell him.

“What is it now?” He asks.

“Hot,” I say, wishing I had something eloquent to say. Something to convey how very hot it is. 

Deciding words aren’t my strong suit, I take his hand and hold it against my erection and say, “Very hot.”

“ _Crowley,_ ” he breathes. 

He doesn’t say anything else. Was that the wrong thing to do? Did I go too fast? Fuck. 

I let go of his hand, but he doesn't move it away. He moves it up and down over my joggers and I moan.

I feel Baz’s cock twitch beneath me and I grind my arse against it. It feels big. I never thought about size before. 

I suddenly feel out of my depths. I don’t know where this is headed. I haven’t actually thought this through. 

“Snow?” Baz asks, probably sensing my hesitation.

“Uhh- Maybe I should read that book first,” I admit. 

“Do you want to stop?”

“No. I really don’t. But I don’t actually know what I’m supposed to do. And what if I don’t like it? Merlin, what if you don’t like it?” I say getting more and more stressed out. 

Baz takes my hands, interlaces our fingers and says, “Simon. It’s okay. Just do what you want. Do what feels good and right. And if you want to stop, we can at any time. Lead and I will follow. I promise I’ll like whatever you do.”

I think back on my list and start kissing his clavicle. I kiss and lick and suck as Baz runs his hands up my thighs then up my sides. I work my way to his neck as Baz moves his hands down my chest and stomach until he reaches my cock and palms it over the joggers. 

I moan against his skin and start rolling my hips so I’m moving against both his hand and his shaft.

I kiss my way up to his lips, and mentally check that off the list. The more we do this the more I want to add to the now growing list. The list might become endless.

He sucks lightly on my bottom lip and my breath hitches. I start moving my hips a bit faster and harder until our breathing becomes ragged. 

I continue to grind against him and he breaks away from the kiss, eyes rolling back. 

“S-Simon, I think I’m going to-”

“Already?” I ask, amazed that I was able to do this to him.

He nods, and that admission alone gets me to the edge too. 

I can’t believe I have this kind of power over him. I’m the cause of that sinful face he’s making, like nothing else matters. Like pure bliss. 

I feel how he looks. 

I grind down on him and say, “On the count of three.”

When I get to three, we both moan the other's name as his fingers dig into my hips and collapse on top of him.

After catching my breath, I roll off and ask, “Was it good?” like he promised. 

He laughs and says, “It was grand.”

After taking a shower, which proved his arse did indeed maintain its shape without the yoga pants, the rest of the day is a blur of food and Christmas movies. I ate all the chocolates from the advent calendar again, which Baz says is okay now since it’s actually Christmas. 

Also we snogged every moment we had alone. There were a lot of simultaneous excuses to use the toilet and to get more cookies. They probably either knew what we were doing or thought we were both having stomach problems. 

We turn in for bed early, after the last twelve days, and especially after what we did earlier, we’re totally knackered.

After I get under the covers, Baz gets his laptop out and plays Frozen, before joining me. 

We nearly fall asleep watching it, and I say, “Wait! There’s one more thing on my list.”

“You have a list?” he asks sleepily.

“Yeah-”

“Did you check it twice?” He interrupts. 

“Shut up. This is important,” I tell him, trying not to laugh. 

“What is it?” He asks.

“I have one last gift for you. But it’s not from me. It’s from your mother.”

He knows what it is before I do it. 

I cup his face with my hand and give him a soft kiss on the forehead. 

He nuzzles into me and I say, “Thank you for giving me my first truly good Christmas.”

“Christmas? Is that what the kids are calling it now?”

  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1.) Thank you so much for reading my fic. It was a long one so I’m very flattered you liked it enough to make it here.  
> 2.) Double thank you to the commenters. I deeply appreciate those.  
> 3.) Thank you to Harry for the art and for helping me write this. https://www.instagram.com/harrisong_art/  
> 4.) Thank you to Ari for proofreading.  
> 5.) I hope you all have good holidays!


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